Thaya
by wildcat7898
Summary: Saavik investigates a shuttlecraft crash and finds one very young survivor. This story follows "Sparrows" in my S/U storyline.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Thaya

Author: Wildcat

Series: TOS

Rating: T

Codes: Saavik/m

Summary: Saavik investigates a shuttlecraft crash and finds one very young survivor.

Disclaimer: Paramount owns Saavik. I have just borrowed her for a while and will not profit from any of this.

This story is set in my Spock/Uhura Trekiverse. It takes place between Sparrows and Utoto on the timeline, but the events of Listening for the Waves are actually more pertinent to this story.

As always, many thanks to my wonderful beta reader, Jungle Kitty.

This story was awarded 1st place for "Best Original Series Het Pairing" in the 2001 ASC Awards.

Feedback is desired.

Thaya, chapter 1

The shuttle had clearly crashed a long time ago.

Unable to suppress a disappointed sigh, Saavik turned off her tricorder. The unusual atmosphere made precise readings useless, but the data gathered by her eyes was all she really needed. They had come to this system expecting to study the variety of rich, abundant life on this previously unexplored planet. What they had not expected to find was an unidentifiable metallic mass. It was obvious that their haste to beam down had been in vain, however.

"Captain, over here," she said.

"I see, Commander." Captain Moore pulled a vine away from the shuttle to reveal symbols painted on the side. "Hmmm. Andorian. My fluency in Andorian is mostly limited to menus, but doesn't it read 'En Tharis Esed'? Means 'The Brave Man' or something like that."

"'The Bold One.'" Saavik activated her wristlight and leaned into the open hatchway. "Humanoid remains, Captain. Apparently the occupants did not survive the crash."

He nodded sadly, then motioned toward the landing party. "Dr. Creighton, Saavik, with me. The rest of you wait out here while we investigate."

Saavik climbed over a small shrub just outside the hatch, then adjusted her footing to compensate for the drunken angle of the shuttle's floor. She heard Captain Moore try to cover a cough at the scent inside the shuttle as he followed her, but she did not allow herself to react. It was not as bad as it could have been, at any rate. Clearly, the majority of decomposition had already taken place.

Dr. Creighton began scanning a figure on a small bunk as Saavik moved toward the second corpse, still seated at the helm.

"Andorian female, approximately thirty Standard years of age," the doctor said. "Died from internal injuries consistent with..."

His words faded into the background as Saavik frowned and looked closer at the dead pilot. "Captain?"

"Yes, Saavik." He joined her quickly, alerted by the tone of her voice, and both of his eyebrows rose when he saw what she was looking at. "Well."

So fresh they might have been picked only moments before, a mass of colorful flowers rested on the pilot's skeletal lap. Saavik met the captain's eyes, then they both started toward the hatch.

"Doctor," said Moore. "Come with us. It would appear that we have at least one survivor."

...

Standing in a small clearing beside the shuttle, Saavik watched the little girl while Dr. Creighton finished his examination of her parents' bodies inside. She was filthy, her white hair matted and her delicate blue features almost obscured by dirt, and she stood huddled with both twiglike arms around a stuffed toy. She was very calm. She had been unnaturally calm when they found her hiding in the bushes, too. At the moment, Captain Moore and the other two members of the landing party were searching for additional survivors, but Saavik knew that they would not find anyone. She recognized that look, the look of a child who had been alone for much too long.

Trying again to engage the child in conversation, she asked, "Does your toy have a name?"

The child's eyes widened, but her only other reaction was to tighten her arms around the stuffed animal.

"I cannot determine what sort of creature it is supposed to represent." Saavik edged closer. "Perhaps you would allow me to examine it."

The girl leaned a fraction of a centimeter away, as if afraid Saavik might snatch the toy. Saavik checked her universal translator to verify that it was operating correctly, and decided to adopt a different approach.

"I would estimate that you are six years of age. Is that correct?"

The little girl continued to gaze at the ground in front of her feet.

"Is there anyone else here with you?"

The girl's eyes, still downcast, slid almost imperceptibly toward the shuttle.

Saavik crossed her arms, at a loss for what to do next with this unresponsive child. She, Saavik, had also been alone when Spock found her, but she had hardly been unresponsive. As a matter of fact, the memory of just how responsive she had been still brought a knot to her stomach. Intent on displaying kindness, he had been unprepared for hostility from one so young. It would have been easy for her to harm him. As a matter of fact, she had never understood precisely why she did not attempt to do so. Was it his gentle manner? His intelligent expression? His nonthreatening attitude? Whatever it was, it had been apparent even to one so untamed as herself. She wished that he were here to guide her now.

Crunching footsteps from the woods told her that the landing party had completed their search. She faced the little girl, intending to ask again if there were any other survivors, but the girl suddenly squeezed her eyes shut and grew rigid.

Saavik motioned at Captain Moore. "You are frightening her."

The captain stopped in his tracks, holding the other two men behind him. "It's all right, honey. We won't hurt you."

"Signs of anyone else?" Saavik murmured.

"No," replied Captain Moore.

The little girl's eyes flickered open, and she finally looked up at Saavik. Saavik crouched next to her, careful not to touch her.

"Is this true?" she asked gently. "We must know if there is anyone else here with you so we do not leave them behind."

The little girl still did not speak, but a slight trembling in her lower lip told Saavik all she needed to know. Not moving from the girl's side, she said, "There is no one else, Captain. She is alone."

"If so, she's been on her own for months. I find it hard to accept that she survived all by herself."

Saavik did not look away from the child. "It can be done."

"All right," he said. "I'll help Dr. Creighton finish his investigation, and we'll beam up."

The little girl continued to hold Saavik's gaze as Captain Moore climbed into the shuttle.

...

Much later that evening, Saavik leaned back in her chair and rubbed her eyes. She had been staring at the screen for too long, reading everything she could find on Andorians and running search after fruitless search-from sickbay when they learned the mother's identity, from the bridge when she finally located the registry of the shuttle, from her own computer since she went off duty three hours earlier—but she was no closer to learning anything about the child. She knew that Andorians entered into marriage contracts in groups of four, but this child appeared to have only two parents. Perhaps it was just as the deceased woman had said in her final message: there was truly no one in the universe to whom the news of the crash would matter.

The woman's features had been haunted as she recorded that final message, weakly confessing her last, desperate hope that someone would care for her child:

"My name is Sherin S'Petha," she had said. Saavik had replayed the message so many times she had committed it to memory. "We crashed here... four weeks ago, perhaps... time has lost all meaning for me... and my husband was killed instantly. I am badly injured, and I have lost hope for my own survival. If you have found this message, you must take care of my daughter, Thaya. She was uninjured in the crash, and I taught her how to find food and drink as best I could. I pray that she will survive until someone finds her, and I pray that the one who finds her will love her and care for her. Please, please, do this for her. She has no one in the universe now but me, and I will soon be gone. Please, I beg you, take good care of my child."

The woman's plea had been recorded on a padd Dr. Creighton found next to her body. Saavik did not know why she had listened to it so many times, for obviously there was no hidden meaning, but she found the woman's words strangely compelling.

So where did this leave the child? According to the ship's legal counsel, it was likely that she would eventually have to be turned over to the Andorian authorities, but for now she was a ward of the Federation and must be treated as such. She was too young to understand any of this, however. When Saavik last saw her, she was curled up on a diagnostic bed in sickbay with her small fingers still clutching the toy, her peace the merciful result of a strong dose of sedatives. Soon, the captain would be tasked with trying to explain the reality of her situation in words a young child could comprehend.

It was not an enviable task.

Saavik shut down her computer, intending to stop for the night. Instead of retiring to her bedroom, however, she left her quarters and started toward sickbay.

The mother's name was Sherin S'Petha. This meant that the child's name was Sherin Thaya, unless her father's clan belonged to one of the Hridian or Ferthen hives, in which case the child would have the father's clan name. And Saavik could not determine the father's given name, much less his clan name. Andorian lineage was always difficult to trace, with the various complicated layers of society, the lack of a strong central government, and the natural tendency of Andorians toward secrecy, but this was even more puzzling than expected. Saavik had found the mother's name in the patchy central records, but that was where the trail had stopped. No hive, no clan, no marriage, no child. Even the shuttle registry showed the mother's name and no more.

She heard the child's cries as soon as the turbolift opened near sickbay, and she hurried in to find a group of people clustered around the child's bed.

Pitching her voice to be heard over the din, she asked, "How is she?"

A stray lock of hair fell into Dr. Creighton's eyes as he glanced over his shoulder. "She's just peachy. Why do you ask?"

Saavik prepared a retort to the doctor's sarcasm as she moved closer to the bed, but before she could voice it, the child's wailing diminished to a whimper, then to a spasmodic gasping.

"Perhaps she was merely unsettled by your lack of calm," she said. "You do understand that you are radiating tension, do you not?"

"Believe me, Saavik, she became frantic long before I did." He shook his head. "It's the darnedest thing. She's been inconsolable for a good twenty minutes. I guess she just ran out of steam. At least this is a step in the right direction. It's healthier than the almost catatonic state she exhibited when we found her."

Saavik nodded. The child still appeared quite pitiful, with damp tracks running down her cheeks from each brimming eye, but she was quiet now. It was clear that she was exhausted.

"That's better." Dr. Creighton reached out to pat the child's arm, but she shrank away from his hand. He pulled the covers over her instead. "Why don't you get some sleep now, Thaya? We'll all leave you alone."

Saavik fell in step with the doctor as he walked away. "I have not been successful in locating-"

Behind them, the whimpering noise resumed.

"She does not want you to leave, Doctor," said Saavik.

Dr. Creighton turned back to his small patient and pulled over a chair. "Then I'll just stay for a while."

"In that case, I will return to my quarters. I merely wished to inform you that I have had no success with my research into her past."

Saavik started to move away, but the volume of the whimpering increased in direct relation to her proximity to the door. Then, when the door slid open before her, the whimpering turned into cries again.

She paused in the doorway and looked back at the doctor.

Dr. Creighton grinned ruefully. "I don't think it's me she wants, Saavik."

Saavik sighed and took Dr. Creighton's place beside the bed.

...

Three nights later, Saavik studied the small cot the quartermaster had delivered to her quarters. It was very much in the way, situated where she would have to detour around it whenever she passed from the outer door to her desk, but there was nothing to be done for that now. She certainly did not have enough room in her sleeping alcove for another bed, and she did not intend to spend another night in sickbay.

Perhaps it would not be so bad. Indeed, the child already seemed to be settling down for the night.

Saavik addressed the small figure huddled on the edge of the bed, her ever-present toy in her arms. "It is time to sleep. Do you require anything else?"

The child remained silent, as Saavik had known she would.

"Dr. Creighton told me to leave a dim light on. I will instruct the computer to turn off everything but this." She pointed at a miniature light on a high table near the child's bed. "I will be in the next room if you should need me."

She waited while the child made herself comfortable in bed, then lowered the lights and left the room, pleased to be back in her own quarters. She would have preferred to know that she could return to duty tomorrow, too, but that prospect was not likely. As Dr. Creighton had phrased it, the child had turned everything upside down.

No one had known what to do with her. She had not belonged in sickbay for more than the one night, but she could not be put in quarters by herself, either. They had tried to move her in with a woman who had raised several daughters, but the child had become so agitated she had made herself ill. Indeed, to Saavik's great bewilderment, the only time the child was _not_ agitated was when Saavik was near.

Therefore, in the end, the only logical decision had been to move her here. Saavik had agreed, but she suspected that she would have had little choice in the matter even if she had not agreed. The captain, too, had become worn down by the child's behavior, and he had made it clear that his request was not, in truth, a request. Then again, it had not exactly been an order. Perhaps it was more appropriate to say that he had begged Saavik to take the child.

As Saavik bent toward the sink to wash her face, she decided that this might not be so bad. She did not have a great deal of experience in dealing with children, but she had been a child once, herself. How difficult could a single small girl be? The ship's legal counsel had been in communication with experts in Federation custody laws, and if no family was located, the child would be handed over to the Federation Office of Civilian Affairs, on Earth, pending resolution of her status. Captain Moore had indicated that this could happen as early as next week. Saavik would simply do her duty, bide her time, and soon the child would be on her way.

She turned out the bathroom light, changed into her night clothes, and climbed into bed.

...

Saavik bolted upright at the sound of a loud wail. Checking the chrono, she saw that it was 0113 hours. She rubbed her face as she climbed out of bed and stumbled into the next room.

"What is wrong?"

The girl's eyes were very big in the low light as she continued to gasp and sob. The covers had been thrown off the bed, and the girl looked tiny, trembling with her knees drawn close to her chest.

Saavik ran both hands through her hair. "I cannot help you if you do not tell me what is wrong."

The girl buried her face against her knees.

Moving closer, Saavik dug through the covers and found the stuffed toy. "Here. Perhaps this is what you want."

One small hand snaked over to clutch the toy, but the child did not stop crying.

Saavik put her hands on her hips. Unable to keep the frustration from her voice, she asked, "What else do you require? Are you hungry? Thirsty? Cold? Hot?"

The child increased her volume, and Saavik saw that her own impatience was not helping the situation. She took a deep breath and sat on the side of the bed. The child immediately quieted, and after a few moments she opened one eye and looked at Saavik.

Saavik raised both eyebrows. Too tired to cope with this any longer, she stretched out beside the child. There was not a great deal of room, but because the child was so small she was able to situate herself so they did not touch. She listened to the girl's breathing until it grew steady, and finally closed her own eyes.

End chapter 1


	2. Chapter 2

Thaya, chapter 2

"Okay, little one, breathe in. Good. Breathe out."

Saavik stood nearby and watched as Dr. Creighton examined his youngest patient. The child was perched on her bed in Saavik's quarters, and Dr. Creighton sat next to her.

He activated his scanner and nodded. "Thaya, I hope you know that you're pretty special to warrant a house call."

"Whose house do you intend to call, Doctor?" asked Saavik.

"It's just a saying. It means that I took time out of my busy schedule to come all the way here."

"Your quarters are next door. I hardly think-"

"Saavik, just humor me, okay?"

"Very well."

"Anyway," he continued, "I came down here because I care about you, Thaya. I want you to be happy. Are you doing all right?"

There was a long silence, and finally he switched off the scanner and stood. "Oh, well. That's okay. If you ever feel like talking, I'm here. Saavik, can I speak with you for a moment?"

"Of course. Thaya, remain on your bed. I will be with you soon."

The child's eyes grew fearful when Saavik walked away with the doctor, but she did as instructed.

He leaned close. "How do you think she's doing?"

Saavik looked up sharply at that. "Did your physical reveal any sort of illness or infirmity?"

"No, no. Physically she's doing pretty well. I'm talking about her emotional state. Has she played? Enjoyed herself? Acted like a child? Had fun?"

"Just before you arrived, I had found a schematic of the first prototype shuttlecraft, and I was explaining how the basic premise was sound even though the execution was flawed."

"And that's your idea of fun?"

"Shuttlecraft engineering was one of my favorite topics when I was young."

"Saavik, Saavik." He shook his head. "No wonder she was asleep when I got here."

"She was tired."

"What about a game? Or making something?"

"I showed her how to construct a three-dimensional star map this morning."

"I'm sure she enjoyed the attention," he said kindly, "but maybe you can find some activities that are more age appropriate. Something that will coax her out of her shell."

Saavik's shoulders sagged. "Doctor, I have tried. If you have any suggestions, I would welcome them."

"How about this. I'll give it some thought, and I'll bring something by in a little while. In the meantime, why don't you try reading to her? I haven't looked too closely at what we have in the ship's library, but if you ask the computer to recommend a story for a girl her age, I'll bet you'll find something."

"I will try."

"That's good." He headed toward the door. "I'm going now, Thaya. You have Saavik call me if you need anything, all right?"

Saavik looked at Thaya, who had put her shirt on inside-out and backwards, then answered for her.

"We will contact you, Doctor, if we require anything."

"Great."

The doctor left, so Saavik sat down next to Thaya to fix her shirt.

...

Seated at her computer, Saavik requested the personnel reports for the last quarter. She had only recently gained access to this data, but in her new capacity as a department head, she was responsible for monitoring the performance of her area. Granted, her area was relatively small-navigation and cartography-but it was good to have the additional responsibility, nevertheless.

So. It appeared that Ensign Williams had been late for duty five times last quarter. Why could he not learn to manage his time? Saavik pushed her second desk chair away from its position near her elbow, retrieved her padd from a drawer, and dragged the chair close again. The child's antennae bobbed with the movement, but otherwise she simply continued to sit in the chair and watch as Saavik downloaded Williams' statistics onto the padd.

When Saavik was ready to draft notes for Williams's next counseling session, she realized that she did not have the data wafer from the last one. There was a stack of wafers on the table by the door, however, so she left the desk and walked in that direction. Thaya slid out of her chair and followed three steps behind. Saavik rifled through the wafers, found the one she wanted, and returned to her desk. Thaya hopped back into her chair and situated herself with the toy on her lap and her feet dangling.

Saavik finished her notes on Williams' problems, and soon she had completed her analysis of the department as a whole. She filed it all away, rose, and headed for her sleeping area. She did not look back, but she knew that Thaya was behind her.

She paused at the door to the fresher. "I will be out in a moment."

Thaya stopped, so Saavik went inside and closed the door. When she opened it again, the child was still standing there with the toy in her arms.

Saavik sighed. "Do you wish to do an activity? Dr. Creighton suggested that you might want to use crayons to mark on paper. I took the liberty of obtaining the proper materials in case you wanted them."

Thaya did not react, so Saavik added, "I will use crayons, too, if that would help."

Thaya hesitated, then nodded. It was just a small nod, but the message was very clear. Saavik managed to return the nod calmly, but inside she was elated. Thaya had actually communicated with her, deliberately and without agitation!

She took a large box of crayons and two flimsy books from a drawer in her sideboard and showed them to Thaya. Thaya immediately selected one with a depiction of a Terran kitten on the cover, leaving Saavik one with a drawing of a rabbit. Wearing a dress and carrying an umbrella. Highly illogical.

Saavik guided Thaya to her dining table and watched as she opened the book, selected a crayon, and bent to her work. After a moment, she looked expectantly at Saavik, so Saavik opened her own book and also selected a crayon, and began carefully filling in the outline of a Klingon targ wearing hoverskates. This was a rather mindless activity, but it stirred memories of the drawings she had created when she was young, depictions of life as she had imagined it on the Enterprise, oddly domestic scenes on the bridge with Spock and Nyota and often herself-

She was jarred from her reverie when Thaya leapt to her feet and dashed across the room. She picked up the stuffed toy that had been left in the desk chair and hurried back, and then held it up as if to show it what she had done.

"What is it?" asked Saavik.

Thaya turned her bright gaze toward Saavik but continued to thrust the toy at the picture, so Saavik leaned close to see what she had colored. It was a Terran dog, and she had chosen to give it light brown fur and a red collar. It matched the toy exactly.

Saavik nodded in comprehension. "Your stuffed toy is a dog."

Thaya ducked her head, breaking eye contact, and wiggled the toy as if it were dancing. Saavik leaned back in her chair. How curious. An Andorian child with a Terran toy.

Raising an eyebrow, she picked out a yellow crayon and began coloring the Targ's shirt.

...

Saavik turned down her bedspread, anticipating the moment when she could finally place her head on the pillow and close her eyes. In the dark, by herself, with nothing but the gentle sound of the ship's engines to keep her company. After three nights in sickbay and one night crowded on the child's small cot, she thought that she had more than earned the right to experience an emotional reaction to the prospect of a good night's sleep.

She slid under the covers and turned out the light. She had no sooner closed her eyes when she heard a very slight sound at the door, the scuff of a foot against the carpet, perhaps, or the rustle of clothing. She looked up to see the small, shadowy figure of Thaya in her doorway.

Thaya made no sound, merely standing there with her arms wrapped around her toy.

Saavik sighed. Moving over, she lifted the covers on the side of the bed and motioned to Thaya. Thaya scuttled across the floor and climbed in beside her, immediately turning onto her side and closing her eyes.

Saavik stared at the ceiling for a long moment, but finally pulled the covers over the girl's shoulders, rolled over, and surrendered to sleep, herself.

...

Three days later, she was in the process of using her fingers to smear paint on a piece of paper when her computer signaled an incoming communication. She did not wish to miss the call, so instead of taking a moment to remove the paint, she was careful to hold her hands out of view when she seated herself at her desk.

"Computer, accept call."

The screen brightened to show the handsome face of Michael Watkins. She felt her heartrate accelerate, and she wondered if she would always experience this response to the mere sight of his gentle smile, his warm brown skin, and his kind eyes. They had been romantically involved for an entire eleven point six months, and her physical reaction was no different today than it had been the day he first held her in his arms, right there in his office at Vulcan's ShiKahr Hospital during the middle of his workday.

"Michael! I see that you are calling from Reni 5. Am I correct in assuming that Faye had her baby?"

"She sure did. He's a strapping eight pounds, fourteen ounces. Faye is doing fine. I'm not so sure about Darrell, though. My poor brother appears to be a little overwhelmed by it all."

"What did they name him?"

"Lawrence Michael Watkins. Larry for short."

Saavik raised an eyebrow at Michael's self-satisfied tone. "After your father and you."

"That's right." Michael chuckled. "Faye said that the next one is going to be named after her family. You should have seen the look on Darrell's face. He's still getting used to the idea of having _this_ one."

"Is your father there?" The paint had begun to dry on her hands and forearms, and she tried to hide a small grimace. It was not a pleasant sensation.

"Yes. He and Ronnie arrived yesterday, just a few hours ahead of me. He's a goner. You've never seen such a big softy. That kid has turned him into mush."

Saavik thought of the serious, authoritarian man Michael had described to her. "It is my understanding that the first grandchild often has that effect on a person."

Michael laughed and shook his head. "It was strange seeing Ronnie's reaction. She's young enough to be little Larry's mother, but she didn't have a clue how to even hold him. Not much maternal instinct in that one."

Saavik nodded. Although she knew that Michael got along very well with his father's young bride, he had still not completely accepted her. "Perhaps that is just as well, Michael. You have told me that your father has no desire for more children."

"I know, I know. There's a fifteen-year gap between Darrell and me. He's already had his second family. A third family would be too much." He paused, and his expression softened. "I miss you, Saavik."

"And I miss you."

"Tell me what you've been up to..." He frowned as his eyes moved to a point just over her right shoulder. "Er, hello."

Saavik looked back to see that Thaya had left the table and joined her at the computer.

She was amused by his befuddled reaction. "Michael, this is Thaya. Thaya, Dr. Michael Watkins."

"Hi, Thaya," said Michael.

Thaya's eyes widened, and she ducked behind Saavik.

Michael grinned. "I'll bet there's an interesting story here."

"I fear that it is a rather sad story. Excuse me a moment." Saavik gently guided Thaya back to the table, and when she saw that the child had begun a new painting, she returned to the computer. "Her parents were killed in a shuttle accident," she murmured, "and we cannot find any other relatives. I am keeping her until we turn her over to the proper authorities."

His expression sobered. "Poor little girl. Was she injured?"

"No, but she had to survive on her own for an estimated two point six months."

He nodded, and she detected that the doctor in him had stepped forward. "Has she displayed any behavioral abnormalities related to her trauma? What about problems due to neglect and malnutrition?"

"Fortunately, her physical needs were adequately met, but she is very frightened. She becomes highly unsettled when I am not near, and she has been mute since we found her even though Dr. Creighton is certain there is nothing wrong with her voice. Indeed, at first she would not respond to us in any manner, but recently she has begun employing nonverbal communication."

"That's encouraging."

"Yes. It is obvious that her psyche is far from healed, but she also no longer clings to me. For instance, she is content with her project at my dining table for the moment. Several days ago, she would panic whenever I left her side." She could not prevent annoyance from creeping into her tone. "I have hardly ventured from my quarters for four days."

"I hesitate to point this out, Saavik, but you're not the first person I would have picked for babysitting duty."

"I certainly would not have picked myself, either, but I had no choice in the matter."

"The captain picked you?"

"No, for some unfathomable reason, the child did."

He smiled. "I don't find it so hard to fathom."

They gazed at one another until he said, "I guess I should go. Dad has been trying to reach his brother, and I'm tying up the line. When will I see you again?"

"It is difficult to predict. I do not know what will happen when we get to Earth."

"You're going to Earth?"

"Yes. That is where the Federation Office of Civilian Affairs is located. Captain Moore has been in contact with a Mr. Jenkins there, and we are to deliver the child to him."

"Who's 'we'?"

"Dr. Creighton and I. We have not yet finalized our plans, but I anticipate that we will leave on a shuttle in two or three days."

"Do you know how long you're going to be there?"

"Dr. Creighton is returning immediately, but I..." She felt the tips of her ears grow warm. "I have asked to stay. At least for a short while. Until she has adjusted."

Michael grinned. "Why, I'd say that Dad isn't the only person around here who has turned into a big softy."

"It is only logical. She has no one."

"Yeah, right," he teased.

"It is true. Logic dictates that I facilitate her transition to her new circumstances."

"Uh huh. I'm sure that something as messy as a sentimental attachment doesn't factor into this at all."

She pressed her lips together, but he continued before she could defend herself.

"Saavik, I have an idea. Dr. T'Liren said that she'll take my patients for as long as needed. Allergens have been down recently, and I haven't been nearly as busy as usual. How about if I meet you on Earth? I'll take the two of you to Dad's, and you can stay there until you get her situation all straightened out."

"Are you certain? You had planned a lengthy visit with your brother."

"I'm just underfoot here. Dad and Ronnie are going to stay for three weeks, and we're already in each other's way. I'll come back later when things aren't so chaotic. What do you say?"

She caught her lip between her teeth. "I do not want to impose-"

"You won't! I'm closer to Earth right now than I am to Vulcan, and it'll be easy to arrange a flight and arrive before you. No one else will be there, so it'll be just the three of us." He leaned closer. "Their home is right on the beach."

"The beach?"

"Fripp Island is unbelievable. Waves and sun. Lots of sand and seashells. A big porch where we can sit at night. Thaya can run and play. It'll be good for her."

"If you think it would be therapeutic for the child..."

"The best thing in the universe for her."

"Very well. I agree."

"Great! Give me a call when you know your plans."

"I will."

He put his hand on his screen, and she raised her own hand in response. It was not until she had pressed it to the screen that she remembered the finger paint. She hastily tried to rub it off.

His image obscured by a large blue smear, he laughed. "I can't wait to see you! Michael out."

The screen darkened, and she leaned back in her seat.

The beach! And Michael! Suddenly, she found that she could not wait, either.

End chapter 2


	3. Chapter 3

Thaya, chapter 3

"Excuse me. Pardon me."

Standing sideways in the aisle of the crowded shuttle, Saavik moved her duffel to her other shoulder in an attempt to quit crowding the man behind her. The duffel's sides bulged with coloring books, crayons, snacks, Thaya's favorite blanket, and many other things Dr. Creighton had insisted she needed, and she was finding it difficult to avoid bumping into things. The man behind her smiled in appreciation when she moved the duffel away from him, but she realized an instant later that she had managed to hit the woman in front of her in the back of the head. The woman turned and glared, but fortunately the crowd began moving before she could say anything.

"Thaya, please walk. It is time for us to disembark the shuttle. We are delaying the people behind us."

Thaya shuffled forward, so Saavik followed. The girl seemed to be glued to the front of her, however, and they had moved less than a meter when she stepped on Thaya's heel. The man grabbed her elbow before she fell.

"Here, let me take that." He lifted the duffel from her shoulder. "You just concentrate on steering the little girl."

Saavik nodded gratefully. "Thank you."

He chuckled. "Think nothing of it. I have two at home just about her age."

She moved in front of Thaya and took her hand, and soon they found themselves in the main terminal of the Charleston Spaceport. Thanking the man again when he returned the duffel, she began scanning the crowd for Michael. He had arrived two days ago, and although it was only yesterday that she, herself, had arrived on Earth, it had seemed to take an eternity to dispense with the formalities in San Francisco.

She looked down at Thaya, unable to keep the excitement from her voice. "You will like Michael very much. He is very fond of children, and he knows all about the beach. Perhaps you could help me look for him. He is very tall and slim, with brown skin and short brown hair, an easy smile... There! There he is!"

She stood on her toes and waved so that he would see her over the crowd, but he was already moving in her direction.

"Saavik, hello!" He pulled her into his arms for a brief, enthusiastic hug, then addressed Thaya. "And you must be Thaya. Welcome to South Carolina."

Thaya regarded him with very serious eyes.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a shell. "I found this just as I was leaving. Would you like to have it?"

She still did not respond.

He watched her for a moment, then shrugged and put it back in his pocket. "Well, there's a lot more where that came from. Maybe you'd rather find your own."

Saavik nodded her appreciation at his attempt to gain Thaya's friendship. "It is so good to see you, Michael."

Reaching for the duffel's strap, he gave her a quick kiss and transferred the duffel to his shoulder. "It's good to see you, too. I'll bet you're ready to go to the beach."

"Very much so." She took Thaya's hand, and they started walking toward the door. "It seemed that we would never get away. I had to fill out form after form and participate in far too many meetings with the child welfare authorities."

"I'm sorry that it was so difficult for you."

"It was more tedious than difficult. We are here, and that is what matters."

"Do you know how long you'll get to stay?"

"Nothing is certain, but they anticipate that they will not require our presence for at least five days. I hope that this does not conflict with your schedule."

"Not at all! I had arranged to take two weeks off. I've already used about half of that, but I might be able to stretch it a little further if there's a good reason to do so." He reached for her free hand and squeezed it. "Do you know of any good reasons?"

She tilted her head, pretending to consider it. "Perhaps."

"What about you, Thaya?" He stepped aside and allowed the two of them to precede him out the door. "Do you think that we might find enough to keep us occupied for five days or longer?"

Thaya didn't appear to hear him as she took three steps through the door and stopped. Her eyes were huge as she looked up at the expanse of crystalline blue sky that painted a long swath between the terminal and the parking garage, and Saavik realized that she had probably never seen a sky of exactly this hue before. It actually came very close to matching the color of her skin.

She steered Thaya away from the human traffic jam that had quickly begun to back up at the door.

Kneeling in front of Thaya, she also looked up at the sky, and suddenly she was taken back to a time when she, herself, had arrived on Earth for the first time. She had been ten standard years old, and she and Spock had landed at the Honolulu Spaceport the day before Mr. Sulu's wedding. She had been astounded at the colors and the scents-lush green foliage dotted with flowers so vivid they almost hurt her eyes, the tang of seawater sharp in her nostrils despite the fact that they could not see the ocean-and she distinctly remembered how the gentle Terran sun had felt on her upturned face.

She closed her eyes and inhaled, and she thought that maybe, just maybe, she could smell the seawater today like she had so long ago.

Her reverie was interrupted by the weight of a small hand on her shoulder. She looked up to see Thaya reaching toward the sky, straining on her toes as if she could touch it if she only tried hard enough.

Before Saavik could respond, Michael bent down and swept the child into his arms. Thaya's eyes widened in fright at the suddenness of his action, and Saavik couldn't stop herself from taking a protective step in their direction. The next instant, however, Michael was holding Thaya at full arm's length over his head, one hand securely under her posterior and the other gripping the side of her waist, and Thaya was laughing, actually laughing, with her small, thin arms stretched up toward the sky.

Saavik felt her own mouth drop open at the carefree, joyous sounds that emanated from Thaya's mouth. Until this moment, she had not even seen Thaya smile.

She threw her own head back and looked up at the sky. The motion dizzied her, and she heard Michael's rich laugh when she had to place her hand on his shoulder to steady herself.

Michael swung Thaya down to chest level, and then transferred her to his hip so that her eyes were level with his own. She wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Are you ready to see the beach?" he asked.

She nodded eagerly, so he set off toward the parking area. Saavik watched them walk away, raised an eyebrow, and hurried to catch up.

...

Saavik rubbed her hair with a towel as she walked through the French doors that separated the guest bathroom from the bedroom. She paused to admire her surroundings-the high, vaulted ceiling, the antique wardrobe, the huge bed piled with pillows-but the sight that truly drew her was the ocean that glimmered in the dark outside her room.

She draped the towel over her shoulder and stepped out onto the deck. The breeze was warm enough that it did not feel uncomfortable even on her wet hair. Leaning on the railing, she looked at the ocean for several long moments, then turned so she could see the rest of the house.

Most of the lights in the house were off, but the moon was full, and she could easily distinguish the high, gabled roof, the deck that ran from one end of the house to the other across the second story, and the delicate white woodwork at the eaves that glowed against the gray shingles of the house. If she craned her neck, she could see the landscaped patio below, and the steps that marched resolutely toward the ocean only to fade in the drifting sand. This was such a large house, extravagantly, almost wastefully large, yet she did not see how it could be any different. Michael said that it had been passed through the generations, coming to his great-grandfather, then his grandmother, then his father, and that it had weathered hurricanes, undergone numerous renovations, and witnessed many joys and sorrows, the most recent sorrow being the death of Michael's mother.

Saavik glanced to her left to see the large, glassed-in room that had been added to the back of the house. Michael's mother had been an invalid for as long as he could remember, and he had been a tender sixteen years old when she had finally been unable to continue the fight. Michael's father, Lawrence, had put shutters on the windows of that room and kept it dark for many years, but just six months ago he had met another woman, one who persuaded him to throw open the shutters and allow light into the room once again. Her name was Ronnie, and while Michael found her rather flighty and flamboyant, Saavik knew that he also didn't begrudge his father his newfound happiness. Ronnie was an artist, a young, free spirit from Jamaica, and she had turned the sickroom into a studio-a place of creation rather than a place of death. Michael had expressed mixed emotions about that, but Saavik thought that it was only appropriate. If Michael's mother was anything like Michael, no doubt she would have approved, too.

"Hey, what are you doing?"

She looked to her right to see Michael emerge from the room next to hers, which she knew was his old bedroom. "I am admiring your home. I am not often given to hyperbole, but I truly do not think I have ever seen a more beautiful dwelling."

"I'm glad you like it." His hands on her shoulders, he turned her toward the beach, stepped close behind her, and wrapped his arms around her. "It's always been my favorite place in the universe."

"I can see why. I would never grow tired of this." She relaxed into the warmth of his embrace. "I am certain you are glad to be back."

"I am, but I miss Vulcan, too. I wouldn't trade my life there for a life here."

"That is not what you said the last time I talked to you about it."

"I was having a bad week, and I was blowing off steam. I was so mad at Zach that I didn't know whether to kick him in the ass or leave. I settled for kicking him in the ass. I felt a lot better after that."

She turned in his arms, shocked that he would treat his lifelong friend that way. "Michael! You kicked Zachary? In the posterior?"

"No, no, I'm speaking figuratively. But we did have it out. It took me two weeks to put the apartment back together. I wouldn't have thought he'd find enough rowdy people on Vulcan to have a party like that, but he managed."

"It was rather inconsiderate of him to leave your apartment in that condition."

"Yes, it was. Even worse is that he had the party while I was at work. I missed the whole thing." He turned her back toward the ocean. "What did you ever see in him, anyway?"

"He was an attentive suitor, and quite handsome, too. In addition, he was very accomplished at kissing, and-"

"Okay, okay. I get it."

"Ah, but you do not know the best part yet." She leaned back in his arms. "He introduced me to you."

"Hmmmm. I guess he did, at that." He tugged the collar of her robe away from her neck. "Where's the kid?" he murmured as he pressed his lips to her bare shoulder.

"She is in your brother's room, in bed. I did not think that she would go to sleep so easily, but she was exhausted."

"I know. The sun and the sand can really drain you."

"Yes." Closing her eyes, she leaned her head to the side. "It gives me an odd, lethargic sensation. I find that I rather like it."

"I know what you mean."

Even though his arms were strong across her breasts, she began to feel too limp to remain standing much longer. She twisted around and tilted her face up to his in invitation. He obliged by gently brushing his lips against her own, and then engaging her in a deep, searching kiss.

"I've missed you so much," he whispered.

She pressed the length of her body against his. "And I, you. I thought that this moment would never come."

He didn't reply in words, instead allowing the increasing vigor of his caresses to express his pleasure at finally being close to her. The ocean murmured in the background, but she could hardly hear it for the blood rushing through her ears. Finally, she pulled away and took his hand.

"Come with me," she said.

They walked through the door to her bedroom, and she led him to the huge bed in the middle of the room. She knew that the belt to her robe had loosened, and she was satisfied to see his eyes darken when she reclined on the bed and propped herself up on her elbows.

He knelt next to her and carefully untied her belt without opening the robe any further, and then he slowly ran his fingertips down the gap in the front. He made no attempt to push the robe away or to increase the pressure of his fingers, instead simply studying her face as he brought his fingers dangerously close to all the places he knew she really wanted him to touch. Finally, she decided to put an end to his teasing. Gripping his shoulders, she pushed him onto his back and straddled him with one smooth motion.

He chuckled. "In a hurry? I've heard about aggressive women like you, women who have their way with-"

She silenced him by bending down and kissing him. Her damp hair hung like a curtain around their faces, and she nipped his lip when he attempted to speak again.

"There will be time for talking later," she said.

He wrapped his arms securely around her and rolled her onto her back. "Believe me," he said, "talking is not what I have in mind right now."

"Good." She fumbled with his shirt until it fell open. "I know of a much more effective form of communication."

"So do I."

She threw her head back when he kissed his way across her jaw to her neck. The robe was still wrapped loosely around her, and she kicked her leg free so she could twine it around his. She arched her back, enjoying the sensation of his lips on her bare shoulder, and...

He stiffened, and she opened her eyes to see that he was looking at the doorway.

"Uh, hello," he said.

Saavik pushed him away as she hastily closed the robe. "Thaya," she gasped. "Why are you up? You are supposed to be asleep. Go back to bed."

Thaya wrapped her arms tighter around the ever-present stuffed animal, and Saavik could see the tears begin to well up in her eyes.

Saavik tried again. "If you return to your bedroom, I will be there soon to check on you."

Thaya's lip trembled, and she somehow managed to make herself look even smaller.

"Aw, that's okay." Michael clambered awkwardly off the bed. "It's scary to be in a new place."

"I am sorry, Michael. She slept with me in my quarters. I had hoped that she might sleep alone tonight."

He silenced her with a wave of his hand. "Don't worry about it. We'll just, er, say hello to each other some other time."

"Very well. Come along, Thaya. Help me turn back the covers."

Saavik sighed in frustration and met Michael's eyes when the child scampered to the bed. He grimaced and tugged on his pants as if they were too tight.

"I believe I'll just go take a shower now. A cold shower. See you in the morning, ladies."

"Good night, Michael." Saavik watched him leave before facing the girl. "Thaya, we will do this tonight, but tomorrow you must sleep in your own room."

The girl climbed under the covers and waited expectantly, so Saavik reached for the bedside light with the intention of turning it off. She halted at the last moment, however, surprised by what she saw on the nightstand.

"Ah, Michael? Michael!" she called out.

He reappeared in the doorway. "What is it?"

His expression indicated that he hoped she had beckoned him back with the intent of asking him to stay with her, but she held up her universal translator instead.

"It was off," she said. "I turned it off and placed it on the nightstand before I took my shower, and I had not turned it back on."

At first he did not react, but after a moment comprehension dawned across his face. "She understood us."

"That is correct."

"Huh." He studied Thaya, who returned his appraisal from her warm spot beneath the covers. "So, little girl, you know Standard. Very interesting."

"Very interesting, indeed," agreed Saavik.

"Well, then, goodnight."

"Goodnight, Michael."

Saavik listened to him walk away and turned out the lights. As she made herself comfortable in the bed, she wondered how someone as tired as she had been only twenty minutes ago would have difficulty sleeping tonight. For she knew without a doubt that it would take her a very long time to fall asleep, indeed.

End chapter 3


	4. Chapter 4

Thaya, chapter 4

The next morning, Saavik followed the scent of pancakes down the sweeping staircase and through the long main living area. Thaya was right behind her, and when they entered the kitchen, Michael looked up from where he stood at the cooktop.

"Good morning!" he said. "I see that you brought your shadow. Do you think she's hungry?"

Thaya peered out from behind her, obviously very interested in what Michael was cooking.

"It would appear so," Saavik replied. "I know that I certainly am."

Michael placed a platter of steaming pancakes in the middle of the table with a flourish. "Glad to hear it, because I can't eat all of these by myself. Thaya, why don't you sit down right there, and we'll let you try the first one."

Thaya nodded, so Saavik helped her into the chair and pushed her close to the table while Michael prepared her plate. He made a great show of watching until she had taken the first bite, and then he sat down and passed the pancakes to Saavik.

"I did a little research this morning because I wasn't quite sure how she'd react to all the sugar in the syrup," he said quietly to Saavik while Thaya took a big drink of orange juice. "Evidently her physiology isn't much different than a human child's in that respect, so I thought this might encourage her appetite. She still looks a bit thin to my eye."

"I agree. These are very good, Michael. I-" Saavik stopped talking at the sound of a clatter, and she turned to see a flood of orange juice rush across the table. She jumped to her feet and made a quick grab for the overturned glass, but it was too late. "Thaya!"

Thaya picked up her toy, which she had placed on the table next to her plate, and it dripped orange liquid across the platter of uneaten pancakes.

Saavik took the toy from Thaya's hand and returned it to the tabletop. "Put this down for just a moment." She dragged Thaya's chair away from the table, knocking her hand out of the way when she attempted to grab the toy again. "Please, just leave it there. It will be fine." Thaya started to cry. "Thaya, hush."

Michael grabbed a handful of dish towels, pushed the juice away from the edge of the table, and dropped some more towels onto the puddle on the floor. "Look, Thaya. Let's pretend we just gave your friend a bath. In orange juice! Isn't that silly?" He found another towel and wrapped the toy in it. "Here. You hang onto him. We don't want him to get cold."

Thaya stopped crying and accepted the toy. She gave Saavik an angry look before turning her attention to the bundle in her arms.

Saavik knelt to dry the puddle on the floor. "I am sorry, Michael. I should have helped her with that glass."

"No, no." He moved the dishes to the counter. "It was my fault. I know better than to give a kid a big, heavy glass like that. Besides, this isn't the first time juice has been spilled here. At least it isn't red. If you look closely, you can see stains on the hardwood where I spilled fruit punch and didn't clean it up. Dad about disinherited me."

Saavik peeled the wet shirt off Thaya and dropped it on the growing pile of towels, then gathered everything up.

"Where should I put these?" she asked.

"Toss them in the sink for now. I'll do something with them later."

She complied and sat back down next to Thaya. After a moment, Michael joined her.

"Thank you for being so patient with her, Michael."

"Not a problem. Thaya, can I take a look at your friend?" Thaya looked at him suspiciously, so he added, "Don't worry. I'm a doctor."

Saavik raised an eyebrow at the incongruity of his statement, but evidently Thaya accepted it, for she handed the toy to him.

"What's my patient's name?" he asked.

Saavik turned to Thaya, but as expected she did not answer. "I do not know its name," Saavik said, "but it is a dog."

"Well, of course it's a dog. I knew that."

"You did?" Saavik frowned as she looked at the almost featureless lump of fabric and stuffing. "It does not look like a dog to me."

"Sure it does. It might be well-loved, but I know a dog when I see one even if it has only one ear and one eye." He discreetly squeezed the excess moisture into the towel. "You know, I had a dog that looked just like this when I was a boy. Except that he had two eyes. He did have only one ear. His name was Booger."

"Booger? That is an odd name. Does it have a meaning?"

"Uh, don't ask. We called him Boo for short. I think..." He lifted the stuffed toy and addressed it. "...that we should call you Boo. How about it? Do you like that name?"

He made the toy nod in response, and Thaya bounced in her seat and held out her arms. Handing it over, he said, "I take it that's a yes. Boo, he is."

Saavik stood and extended her hand to Thaya. "Thaya, perhaps Boo and I can escort you upstairs so that you can put on some dry clothes. I noticed that Dr. Watkins still has some uncooked pancake batter on the counter, so perhaps we could prevail upon him to prepare more breakfast."

"Good idea. I'll get to work right now."

...

They had spent most of the day exploring the island, a strange mixture of wilderness and civilization. They had seen big houses and dusty lanes, tourist attractions and glitzy shopping strips, thickets of trees, marshes filled with high grass and long-legged birds, and sand and steel and water and glass. Fortunately, the residents of the beach where Michael's parents lived had zealously protected their privacy, so the commercialism did not intrude there, but Saavik still found it disheartening to see how the humans had spoiled such a large portion of their beautiful island.

The only exception to the ban of commercialism from the residential area-and somehow it did not seem a violation at all-was the modest restaurant and boat dock run by the parents of Michael's longtime friend, Zachary Johnson. It was an odd establishment, where one could buy bait, insect repellent, and a cheeseburger all in one stop, but somehow it seemed appropriate given the unique personality of their son. Michael had even taken Saavik and Thaya inside to meet Zachary's parents, and Saavik had felt her face flush when she realized that they knew exactly who she was. She had not been able to discern whether they had learned of her through her short romantic involvement with Zachary, or through her current romantic involvement with Michael, who was almost like another son to them.

The end of the full day had finally come, and currently the three of them were relaxing in Ronnie's studio, ignoring the dirty plates stacked on the floor near their feet. They had picked out an array of fresh seafood in town, which he had prepared on the patio grill. A light rain had chased them inside, however, and they had decided to come to this room instead of sitting in the kitchen to eat. The entire experience had been perfect. They had opened the window, and they had been able to smell the rain as the clouds moved out over the ocean. Also, Saavik did not remember ever consuming a more satisfying meal. She had long since given up even the pretense of maintaining a vegetarian diet, and she had never thought that she would enjoy crab and shrimp and flounder more than she might a thick, juicy steak.

Michael interrupted her thoughts. "Want a refill?"

She glanced over to see that he was holding up the pitcher of iced tea. She had scoffed at lunch when he told her that the iced tea here was different than the iced tea she had ever tasted anywhere else, but he had been correct. She had hardly been able to choke it down. He had promised afterward that he would reduce the amount of sugar when he made iced tea, but she still had her reservations.

"No thank you, Michael."

He nodded his head toward the corner of the room. "It looks like Thaya has found a new friend."

"Indeed." Saavik watched as Thaya clambered off the chair she'd appropriated, wrestled it closer to the birdcage on the high stand, and climbed back on. "She is fascinated by your stepmother's canary."

"That neurotic little bird. I swear, Ronnie loves it more than she loves my father. When they got married, it was the first thing she brought into the house, and she took it straight to their bedroom. It went into some sort of bird depression, though, until she moved it into this sunny room. Dad humored her, but he was secretly glad. It would have made him crazy to have that bird in his bedroom."

"It is a cheerful little thing."

"I suppose. She says that it's really old in bird years, so I guess it's pretty chipper for a senior citizen." He watched as it flitted from one perch to the next, evidently excited by Thaya's proximity. "Really, I'm kind of fond of it. Don't tell Ronnie I said that."

"Your secret is safe with me."

"Thaya?" he called out. "Could you help me look after Harry?"

"Hairy?" interjected Saavik.

"Yeah. Harry Canary." Michael grinned sheepishly before addressing Thaya again. "Could you check every single day to make sure he has food and water?"

"There is a vacation feeder attached to the cage. Would it not dispense the desired amount of food and water?"

"It'll make her feel important. See? She's warming to her new responsibility already."

Saavik looked over at Thaya and saw that she was indeed peering intently into the cage. She decided to play along.

"Thaya," she said, "does the bird need anything to eat?"

Thaya shook her head.

"Does he appear thirsty?" she added.

Thaya shook her head again.

"Very well." Saavik nodded in satisfaction. "You are a good caretaker."

Thaya smiled and ducked her head, and then returned her attention to the bird, so Saavik slid closer to Michael and looked back out at the ocean.

...

"Here we go. You're going to love this."

Saavik watched quietly as Michael programmed the vid player and threw himself onto the bed next to the two of them. He claimed that he had watched this vid hundreds of times as a youth, and his actions did seem to have a rather ritualistic appearance. He had popped a large bowl of popcorn, arranged the pillows against the headboard with great deliberation, and he now positioned himself on the other side of Thaya with such ease that Saavik could almost envision the young boy in the holos around the house doing just the same thing.

When the vid came on, it was all in shades of gray.

"There is something wrong with your vid player," said Saavik.

"No, there's not. It's supposed to be like this."

She wrinkled her nose. "I was under the impression that very few of the old vids survived from the time in your history when color was not used."

"This didn't predate color. You'll see."

"Then why-"

He grinned and tossed a piece of popcorn at her. "You'll see, Saavik. Just be patient."

She frowned at him as she ate the piece of popcorn. When she turned back to the vid player, she saw an image of a young girl and her small dog running down a dusty road. The girl appeared to be in great distress, fleeing someone by the name of 'Miss Gulch,' and she kept speaking to her dog.

"The dog cannot possibly understand what the girl is saying," Saavik pointed out.

"I'll bet he does," replied Michael.

"This is not going to be one of those vids in which the dog speaks to the people, is it? A woman in the Civilian Affairs office played a vid for Thaya while we were in San Francisco, and it had no educational value at all."

"No talking dogs." He paused for obvious effect. "Just a singing lion and flying monkeys."

"Monkeys that fly? I do not think-"

"Shhh. This is a good part."

Saavik glanced at Thaya to see that she was entranced by the images on the screen. Her mouth hung slightly agape, and her eyes could not possibly have been any bigger. Saavik decided that perhaps she would reserve comment until she had seen more of the vid.

"Bet you can't do this," said Michael, evidently forgetting his admonition that she not interrupt a 'good part.'

Saavik and Thaya both turned to see him throw a piece of popcorn in the air and catch it in his mouth.

"I can do it with two pieces, too," he added, demonstrating his technique.

"That is not so difficult," said Saavik.

"Yeah? Let's see you do it."

Saavik selected a piece of popcorn and threw it in the air. It landed in her hair instead of her mouth, and Thaya giggled.

Michael addressed Thaya. "I'll bet _you _can't do it."

Thaya dug through the bowl until she found the perfect piece of popcorn. She tossed it up, and it landed squarely in her mouth.

"Oh, ho!" laughed Michael. "Saavik, you're the only one who can't do it!"

"I assure you that I can." She tried again, and it landed on the floor. "Perhaps I am merely not selecting popcorn of the right size."

Michael spoke in a stage whisper to Thaya. "Saavik can't do it. Should we show her how?"

Laughing, Thaya responded by selecting another piece of popcorn, showing it to Saavik, and throwing it in the air. She caught it easily and repeated the entire process again, clearly for Saavik's edification. Soon, the movie was forgotten, and they were deeply embroiled in the attempt to teach Saavik how to catch popcorn in her mouth.

...

Saavik jumped up with a start only to find that the vid screen was dark and the popcorn bowl was empty. The lights were on in the room, and as soon as she was able to orient herself, she saw that Thaya and Michael were asleep next to her. They were both fully clothed, and Michael had a piece of popcorn resting on the center of his chest. They had ended up making more popcorn and restarting their vid, and it had been quite late when they finally settled down to watch.

She looked at the clock. 0103 hours. Reaching down, she grasped the covers where they were heaped at the end of the bed and pulled them up slowly, careful not to dislodge Boo-or rather Toto as he had been rechristened-from Thaya's arms.

She watched Michael rub his face and grow still again. Thaya's whispery fine hair was in wild disarray on the pillow, so Saavik ran her hand across its silky coolness, smoothing it away from Thaya's antennae. She let her hand rest there for a long moment.

Finally, she rolled onto her side and pulled the covers to her neck.

"Computer, lights off."

She closed her eyes and listened to the muted sound of the waves until sleep began to reclaim her.

End chapter 4


	5. Chapter 5

Thaya, chapter 5

Saavik sat at the kitchen table and watched the sun rise while she sipped her tea. The house was very quiet. With the exception of Michael's footsteps overhead, nothing could be heard but the soft ocean sounds outside. She knew there was a possibility that the child, who was still in bed, would become distressed to find herself alone, but she thought it unlikely. Thaya seemed to be growing ever less fearful, actually venturing from Saavik's side several times yesterday to investigate various curiosities on the beach.

"Good morning, Saavik."

She looked up to see Michael heading toward the coffee maker.

"Good morning, Michael. Did you sleep well last night?"

"Like a log. Thaya kicked me once or twice, but she's so tiny I hardly felt it."

"What time did you fall asleep?"

"We made it to the end of the vid and started over, so I suppose it was around midnight." He took a mug from the cabinet. "You were the only one who didn't last, by the way. I guess you didn't find the story quite as enthralling as we did."

"I am sorry, Michael. I tried my best to remain interested in it."

"I noticed that your eyes were glazing over when Dorothy and the lion fell asleep in the poppy field, and after that it was only a matter of time." Sitting down next to her, he captured her hand and brought it to his lips. "That's okay. I guess you're all right, even if you don't know anything about the classics."

"I must have been absent the day we studied 'The Wizard of Oz' in Terran Classics at the Academy. No doubt it fell somewhere between Charles Dickens and Maya Angelou."

"You may scoff, but it _is_ a classic."

She ran her fingertips across his lower lip. "Spock is well versed in the classics, and he never mentioned it during any of my lessons."

"I'll bet he's aware of it, though. I wouldn't be at all surprised to learn that he had watched it as a child."

"We will have to ask him."

"Let's do that." He slowly kissed each of her knuckles and then murmured, "It's good to be alone with you."

"It is encouraging that Thaya is sleeping alone this morning. Perhaps we will be able to enjoy more quiet moments like this as she becomes bolder." She paused at the sound of light, quick footsteps from the stairs, and regretfully withdrew her hand from his grasp. "I fear that this moment has already come to an end, however."

Thaya skipped into the room, holding a basket that she had evidently found someplace in the house. Her toy dog was in the basket. Two pale blue ribbons streamed from her other hand. She halted in front of Saavik and placed the ribbons on the table.

Saavik looked from Thaya to the ribbons and back to Thaya again. "Good morning, Thaya. What are these?"

Thaya pointed at the ribbons, and then picked them up and thrust them into Saavik's hand.

Saavik studied the ribbons. "Where did you find these?"

Michael grinned. "That's Ronnie's sewing basket she's holding. I'll bet that everything except those two ribbons is in a heap on the floor of her studio."

"Are they for me?" asked Saavik.

The girl shook her head, took one of the ribbons from Saavik, and held it up against the side of her head.

"I get it." Michael gestured toward the toy in the basket. "You're Dorothy, and that's Toto."

Thaya nodded vigorously.

"Saavik, she wants you to tie the ribbons in her hair."

"Ah. I see."

Motioning Thaya closer, Saavik took one of the ribbons and gathered as much of the wispy hair as possible between her fingers. Thaya was so still she scarcely breathed. Soon, Saavik had wrapped the ribbon around the silky bundle and tied it in a bow.

She leaned back to admire her handiwork, and the ribbon slid from Thaya's hair and fell to the floor.

"I am uncertain whether this will work," said Saavik.

Thaya picked it up and handed it to her with the clear instruction that she was to try again.

"Very well."

Saavik smoothed a section of hair and retied the bow. It immediately dropped onto the floor. Thaya retrieved it and again presented it to Saavik.

Frowning slightly, Saavik studied Thaya's head. She was obviously insistent that she wear the ribbons in her hair, but her hair was too fine to hold them. This would appear to be a problem without a solution. Unless...

Saavik began to tie the ribbon around one of Thaya's antennae.

"Saavik!" exclaimed Michael. "You can't do that."

Saavik scowled at him. She was beginning to grow weary of the fact that everyone seemed to think they understood children better than she did.

"I believe that this will work quite well." She made a neat bow and met his eyes with self-satisfaction. "You are not the only person who has good ideas, Michael."

He folded his arms across his chest as if waiting, so she looked back at Thaya. A moment later, the antenna with the ribbon began to quiver, and then it shriveled up into a little knot. The ribbon fell to the floor once again.

Horrified, Saavik started to reach for Thaya's head but withdrew her hand hastily. "Thaya, I am sorry! Are you in pain?"

Michael smiled and shook his head. "It didn't hurt. An Andorian child's antennae are extremely sensitive. They'll withdraw if touched. It's just Mother Nature's way of protecting something that protrudes like that until it grows to maturity. It'll pop back up any time now."

Just as he had predicted, her antenna eased back up into its normal state.

"I have a better idea." He crossed the kitchen and rummaged through one of the cabinets until he had found a small bottle. Handing it to Saavik, he said, "Try this."

Saavik accepted the bottle and read the label. "This is adhesive."

"I know."

Saavik raised both eyebrows. "You suggest that I glue the ribbon into her hair?"

"It's water soluble. See? It says so right there on the label."

Despite the fact that she did not want to like his idea, she could not deny that it was sound. She deliberately cast one more skeptical glance his way, and unscrewed the lid and applied a tiny amount to the ribbon. She quickly gathered Thaya's hair once more and tied the ribbon.

This time, the ribbon stayed.

"See?" said Michael.

Thaya smiled, so Saavik repeated the procedure with the other ribbon. When she was through, Thaya skipped to her place at the table. Saavik sighed and picked up her tea again.

Michael rubbed his hands together. "All right, Dorothy. What do you and Toto want for breakfast?"

...

"Watch me!" Michael shouted. "I'm going to hold the string and run with it."

Saavik and Thaya watched as Michael ran across the sand with the kite held high. At first nothing happened, but after a moment the kite seemed to take on a life of its own. Michael fed the string through his fingers, and the kite rose ever higher. Saavik shielded her eyes against the sun as she watched it soar like a brilliant yellow and blue bird.

Thaya jumped up and down, clapping her hands in delight, and Michael whooped as the kite dipped sharply and looped back up to where it had begun. The muscles played across his back with his every movement, and Saavik pushed her hair away from her face while she studied him.

He was a beautiful being, with a narrow waist and long legs, and she could not believe that she had been fortunate enough-she, a misfit Romulan/Vulcan mix who had kept almost everyone she had known at a distance her entire life-to find herself so deeply involved with such a man. Intelligent, kind, gentle, soft-spoken, affectionate, playful... What would his patients back on Vulcan think if they could see their reserved, dignified doctor acting as if he were ten years old again? This was a side of him that Saavik, herself, had not seen prior to his popcorn-throwing challenge.

"Thaya, do you want to try it?" he asked.

Thaya joined him eagerly, and he handed the string to her with detailed instructions about when to let out slack and when to pull it in. He held the string with her for a long moment, and Saavik found herself actually holding her breath when he let it go.

"Look at you! You're doing it!" he called out.

The kite swirled and turned, and the gaily knotted tail whipped around behind it with every movement. Michael trotted down the beach and motioned for Thaya to follow him, and soon they were dashing at top speed. The kite continued to climb, and Saavik could hear Thaya's laughter ringing out over the wind and the waves and the flapping of the kite-

Suddenly, Thaya stumbled, and the string slid through her fingers as she skidded face-down into the sand. Michael tried to grab the string, but he was not quick enough, and the kite soared higher, whipped around in several violent circles, and crashed into the shallow water further down the beach. Her eyes on Thaya, Saavik began trotting across the sand. When she realized that Thaya was crying, she increased her speed.

"You're okay," Michael said, brushing the sand off Thaya. "You have a little scrape on your knee, but see? It's nothing."

Thaya looked at the tiny beads of blue oozing from her knee and began to shriek louder.

"You're not hurt badly," he said. "We'll just take you inside and clean that up a little, and you'll be as good as new."

As Saavik crossed the last few meters, Thaya opened up her arms, and Saavik swept up the tense little body before she had even completely halted. "Shhh, Thaya," she whispered. "You will be fine." Thaya responded by wrapping her spindly arms and legs around Saavik, and burying her face against Saavik's neck. Saavik patted her on the back and continued to murmur comfortingly. After several minutes, Thaya began to quiet.

Her face close to Thaya's head, Saavik inhaled. A ribbon tickled her nose, and she could detect the sun-warmed, soapy clean scent of the little girl's hair. She had never held such a small being before, and she found that it felt good. Thaya was now only sniffling against her neck, but the surprisingly strong little arms and legs were still wrapped securely around her shoulders and torso.

Finally, Michael patted Thaya on her back and disengaged one knee. "This doesn't look too bad. Really. How about if we go inside, and I'll clean it up and put a bandage on it?"

Thaya rubbed her face with the back of her arm and nodded, so Saavik carried her inside with Michael by her side.

...

"Michael, it appears to be very unsteady."

Remnants of the day's sunshine were still warm in the sand despite the coolness of the night breeze, and Saavik stood next to the hammock Michael had strung across a portion of the beach. She had asked him earlier why there was a lone post standing several meters from the large tree that shaded the patio, and he had cryptically replied that she would have to wait and see. And now she saw. She was not certain she approved.

He stretched out on his back and crossed his arms behind his head, which caused the hammock to sway dangerously. "It's perfectly safe, and there's room for both of us. Give it a try. The worst that could happen is that you fall out, and the landing is pretty soft."

She pursed her lips, grasped the side of the hammock, and swung her left leg onto it. It rocked away from her so violently that Michael had to clutch the loosely woven fabric to avoid being thrown into the sand.

"Saavik!" he laughed. "You can't just jump up here. Do it carefully."

She nodded, rubbed her hands together, and slowly put her left leg onto it again. This time, it moved only slightly. She looked at Michael for confirmation, and when he nodded, she eased her weight onto her left hip. Michael held her arm, and she pulled her right leg up next to the left. A moment later, she had slid into the center of the hammock to feel herself pressed very tightly against his side.

"Very good," he said. "Now just one more thing."

He put his arm around her and guided her head onto his shoulder, and soon they were both facing the stars.

"Perfect." His head slid over until it was resting against hers. "Alone at last."

She allowed herself a small sigh of contented relief. "I hope that it lasts. Thaya seemed perfectly happy to go to bed by herself tonight, but I still have my reservations. If she awakens, she might be frightened."

"I think she'll be fine. She was so worn out I doubt she'll wake up, but if she does, she knows you wouldn't go far." He stroked her shoulder. "You've done a great job with her."

"Perhaps."

"You have! Kids aren't easy."

"Thank you." She twisted in his arms so she could face him. "I have noticed that you are very good with her."

He grinned, and his teeth were dazzling in the moonlight. "I am, aren't I? It's a bit of a surprise. I don't see many children in my practice, and I'm by far the youngest cousin on either side of my family."

She kissed him gently on the lips. "It is apparently a natural ability," she said, only paying partial attention to what she was saying.

"Who would have thought it?" he murmured.

She gazed into his eyes for a long moment, and then placed a hand on either side of his face and kissed him again. This time, however, her soft kiss quickly became more aggressive, and when she pressed the full length of her body against him and he moaned, she did not wish to wait another moment to be even closer still.

Moving her lips to his neck, she threw her leg over his hip and reached for the fastenings on the front of his shirt. He responded by grabbing the hem of her tunic and skinning it over her head, and when she felt the cool night air against her bare back, she shifted her weight so she could straddle him, pushing his shirt off his shoulders and-

Suddenly, her hair swirled over her face, and she felt her support shift woozily beneath her. She tried to grab the edge of the hammock, but that seemed to make matters worse, and she whirled upside down before she could even consider what to do next. The air rushed from her lungs when she landed on her back in the sand. An instant later, Michael landed hard on top of her.

Fumbling until he had removed his elbow from her ribs, he helped her push her hair out of her face. "Are you all right?" he asked.

"Yes." She blinked as she tried to orient herself. "I am unhurt."

He began to chuckle. "You should have seen your face! I felt the hammock begin to sway, but I didn't have time to warn you." His laughter grew louder. "Your eyes got as big as saucers! I had you in my arms, then I just had your shirt, and the next thing I knew the hammock had flipped all the way over and I was on top of you."

She felt a small smile curve her own lips. "Perhaps this is what it means to be 'head over heels' about someone.'"

"I've always known that you rock my world."

He was still stretched out on top of her, so she put her arms around his back.

"Now. Where were we?"

End chapter 5


	6. Chapter 6

Thaya, chapter 6

Standing in front of the cooktop, Saavik picked up a ladle and looked at the gooey substance she had prepared. She had watched Michael do this yesterday, and she remembered that he had filled the ladle approximately three-quarters full and poured the batter onto the griddle. It had been fascinating to observe how the batter immediately formed neat circles, almost as if it understood what it was supposed to do. Of course, she knew that this was nothing more than a whimsical notion on her part, for the heat of the griddle had caused the batter to thicken beyond the point of viscosity, but she found the concept entertaining nonetheless.

She dipped the ladle into the bowl and emptied it onto the cooktop. She had expected the batter to form a circle just as it had for Michael, but instead it continued spreading to the edge of the griddle and began to drip off. Discarding the bowl and ladle, she frantically rummaged through the drawer and came up with a spatula, and commenced trying to coax the errant rivulets back to the center of the griddle.

There.

The batter began to stiffen, but the first pancake was clearly ruined. She scraped it off the griddle and dumped the remnants into the recycler. Obviously, the heat was too low. Well, as Spock would say, a ventured effort and unfortunate result-otherwise known as 'trial and error'-was part of the educational process, so she must learn from this and try again. She increased the temperature and retrieved the bowl and ladle.

She waited a moment for it to heat evenly and poured the appropriate amount of batter onto the griddle. This time, it formed a circle as she had expected. Very good. She repeated her actions until the top of the griddle was covered with six perfectly symmetrical pancakes. She was not certain how Michael had known how long to wait before turning them, but she had noticed that it ranged from forty-five seconds to a minute. That was a rather wide and imprecise range, but she would check them in forty-five seconds and make the decision at that time as to whether they required more cooking.

She stepped away and gazed out the window. They had seen dolphins yesterday morning, and Michael said that the dolphins often came close to the beach to feed. She would like to see them again. They had actually seemed to be enjoying themselves as they leapt out of the water, and she wondered what it would be like to experience such freedom, such total abandon to-

Abruptly, she realized that she smelled something burning, and she rushed over to the cooktop to see smoke rising from her batter circles. Instead of the even golden brown she had expected, the edges were almost black and the centers were still a pasty white. Turning off the heat, she grabbed the spatula and lifted one off the griddle. She looked around in desperation because she did not know what to do with it, but finally her eyes landed on the sink. She tossed the pancake there, where it landed with a sizzle, and then she did the same for the rest of them.

She waved her hand to clear the foul-smelling smoke and surveyed the blackened lumps in the sink. Michael had made this look so easy! She picked up the bowl. Over half of the batter was left, and she had a better idea now of how hot the cooktop should be. She had also learned that the pancakes required her complete attention. So, she would try again. If Michael could do it, so could she.

Her lips set in a determined line, she turned the heat on, picked up the bowl and ladle, and spooned the correct amount of batter onto the cooktop.

...

Saavik watched tensely as Michael and Thaya picked up their forks and each speared a piece of pancake. She had noticed that it required some effort for them to cut the pancakes, but perhaps it was because they had stacked the pancakes too high onto their plates in their eagerness to eat.

Michael was first to take a bite. He chewed twice, paused, and swallowed with a noticeable gulp. He then picked up his coffee rather quickly and took a large drink. Saavik knew that his coffee was too hot, and indeed his eyes appeared to water a little, but she knew that he was very fond of coffee. Perhaps he had not wanted to wait for it to cool. Then he smiled in a forced manner.

"These are good, Saavik. Thank you for making them."

He did not put his fork down, but neither did he make an effort to take another bite. Instead, he turned toward Thaya. Saavik frowned at him before doing the same.

They both watched as Thaya speared a bite and put it in her mouth. She also chewed only twice then paused, but soon she resumed chewing in a normal fashion. She swallowed that bite, took another, and swung her feet beneath the table as she looked up at Saavik with a cheerful expression.

Saavik nodded appreciation at her and turned to Michael with one eyebrow raised. He smiled again briefly, hesitated, and speared another piece of pancake and put it into his mouth.

Saavik picked up her fork and knife and started cutting up her own pancakes.

...

"Wind it up, Thaya!"

Bending over to pick up a sock-a very large and dirty sock-Saavik listened to Michael and Thaya playing in the next room. He had bought her a toy rabbit today, and they were deriving a great deal of pleasure from it. They would wind it. It would hop. They would wind it. It would hop. And on and on. It was really quite baffling.

She found the mate to the large sock, and picked up a small sock. Thaya had not strewn her belongings around like this when she had been living with Saavik; therefore, Saavik could only conclude that it was Michael's influence that led her to be so careless. How could he live like this? His parents had a beautiful home, yet he showed no regard to maintaining its pristine state. She knew very well that his workplace was not like this. Why, then, could he not maintain a tidy home as well? Spock had reprimanded _her_ any number of times for leaving her belongings lying about, but she had eventually learned to be organized. Somewhat. Perhaps not entirely. But more so than this.

"Thaya," she called out, "it is time for you to prepare for bed."

She did not receive a response, so she walked into the next room.

"Thaya."

"Hi, Saavik," said Michael. "Watch this."

He wound up the rabbit and placed it on the floor, and as expected, it hopped. Thaya dissolved into peals of laughter.

"That is very amusing, but it is time for her to take her bath."

"Who, this girl?" Without warning, he grabbed Thaya, lifted her into the air, and held her upside-down. She laughed even louder when he pretended to bite her feet. "She doesn't need a bath. Why, she's so clean I could eat her toes!"

"Michael..."

He put her down, and as soon as she touched the floor, she ran. He chased her around the sofa.

"Michael!" Saavik said loudly.

"Uh, yeah?" He came to a gradual stop.

"It is time for this to end."

"We're just having fun. Aren't we, Thaya?"

Thaya nodded, but Saavik said, "She will never go to bed if you continue this behavior. It is time to stop playing."

"Okay, okay. Come with me, young lady."

Picking her up with mock sternness, he held her upside-down once again and started toward the stairs. She giggled but passively allowed him to do it.

Saavik gathered Thaya's jacket and shoes, Michael's shoes, and the rabbit, then followed.

...

"Thank you, Mr. Jenkins. Saavik out."

It was another day, and as Saavik had expected, Mr. Jenkins still had not learned anything new. She put her elbow on the arm of the chair and rubbed her chin, sat very still for a long moment, and finally walked slowly from the study to the main living area. Michael and Thaya were sitting on the floor playing with the small toy rabbit again.

He glanced up, and his smile became fixed when he saw the expression on her face. He handed the rabbit to Thaya.

"Why don't you take the bunny into the kitchen and play with it there?" he asked. "It'll hop even further on that hard floor. I'll be there in a minute."

Saavik sank heavily into the sofa cushions as Thaya dashed into the kitchen.

He sat beside her. "Bad news?"

"I do not know what to think. Civilian Affairs has still not located her family. Mr. Jenkins has spoken repeatedly with his Andorian counterpart, and they are close to concluding that she has no one left."

"I'm sorry to hear that. It's not a surprise, though, is it?"

"No. I had suspected as much."

"Did he say how long he intends to keep looking?"

She shook her head. "No. However, he indicated that the Andorians are becoming impatient with the search. He does not know how much longer he can delay them."

"So." He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. "What will become of her?"

"Mr. Jenkins says that she will become a ward of the Andorian government. They are evidently quite eager to have her."

"That's good, isn't it? She's a sweet child. They shouldn't have any trouble placing her with a family."

Saavik shrugged. "I have not been able to elicit a firm opinion from anyone, one way or another."

"Do they understand that she needs specialized attention? She's doing a lot better, but she still underwent a horrible trauma."

"He has made that clear to them, and they assured him that she would receive only the best medical attention."

He nodded, but before they could continue, Thaya came running from the kitchen with white hair and blue ribbons flying. The rabbit could be heard hopping around in the background. She grabbed their hands and tugged, so Saavik allowed herself to be pulled to her feet.

Forcing lightness into her voice, Saavik said, "Show me how far your rabbit can hop, Thaya."

She felt Michael's comforting hand on her back as Thaya towed them into the kitchen.

...

Scrutinizing the label on the bottle in her hand, Saavik verified that she had picked up the Andorian Solscreen rather than the Vulcan, and squirted a large portion onto Thaya's back. She held the child firmly in the other hand to ensure that she did not squirm out of her grasp.

"Be still, Thaya," she said. "You can return to the water soon."

She rubbed the lotion in as quickly as she could, but Thaya managed to escape with a number of white streaks still trailing greasily across her blue skin. Saavik contemplated calling her back as she watched her splash into the shallow waves, but she decided that it was late enough in the afternoon that she need not be concerned.

She leaned back in her chair and looked over at Michael, who sat with his head lolling back and his eyes closed.

"Are you asleep?" she asked.

He did not reply, so she watched him for a moment, then dropped the bottle of Solscreen on his foot. He jumped up as she bent over to retrieve it.

"I am sorry, Michael. It slipped out of my hand."

"Uh, that's okay. I didn't mean to fall asleep." He rubbed his face and looked out at the water. "She never gets tired of it, does she?"

"No. I do not, either. I am too old to jump in the waves, but I believe that I could watch her do so forever."

"Did you ever frolic like that?"

"Not precisely like that. but Nyota made sure that I learned how to play in the water."

As they watched Thaya, Saavik remembered her trip to the ocean with Spock and Nyota. That was the first time they were open with her about their relationship, and the first time she had begun to think of the three of them as a real family. That had been a good vacation. It had been good to be part of a family.

"You know that if she had any family left, the authorities would have located them by now," she said.

"Yes. I imagine you're right."

"I did some more research this afternoon, and I learned that she will most likely remain in an institution until she becomes an adult. The dynamics of an Andorian group marriage might seem odd to cultures such as our own, in which it is the exception rather than the norm for adults to form groups greater than pairs, but placing two males and two females in a single marital unit has two distinct evolutionary advantages: there is no lack of support for offspring, and even if one female happens to be barren, it is unlikely both will be."

"Which means that there aren't many families looking for children to adopt."

"Exactly."

He dug his toes into the sand. "What do you know about the orphanages?"

"From all I have been able to learn, they are exemplary. The ratio of adults to children is favorable, the children are nurtured and well educated, and it is a common practice for children who were raised there to return as caregivers when adult. Nevertheless..."

"I know."

They sat quietly as she thought again about the reports she had read today. They were accompanied by vids of happy, healthy children, playing in groups, involved in solitary pursuits, sleeping, eating, laughing, and so on. She could not imagine Thaya in such a setting, however. The little girl had still not spoken, and even though she had begun to laugh and play like the children in the vids, she was far from healed. Saavik remembered her own state when Spock found her-angry, violent, defiant, untamed-and she knew that even with her deficiencies, she had been much better-equipped to meet an uncertain future than was this fragile child. Instead of facing life's challenges with her hands in fists and her chin up, Thaya might simply fade away. What would Spock do in this situation? The answer was obvious, for he had already done it.

"I do not want her to live the rest of her life in an institution, Michael," she said.

"Neither do I, but I think that we need to accept the possibility. Mr. Jenkins is good at what he does. Maybe he can find one that will provide specialized care."

"That will not be good enough. She needs more."

He reached for her hand. "Everything will be all right."

She yanked her hand away and turned to him. "Everything will be all right?" She felt anger begin to rise, but she could not halt it. "All right? How can you say that? Everything will not be all right!"

"Saavik."

"It is not fair to her! She has lost everything. She has no one. You humans think that sometimes you can simply say that it will be all right, and then you look the other way and pretend it is."

"For heaven's sake, calm down. I didn't mean anything by it."

"Well, I will not pretend!" She stood and picked up her towel and chair. "It is illogical to pretend. It changes nothing!"

"You're being unreasonable. I was just-"

"Stay here and watch her." She started toward the house without waiting for his answer. "You can think of how everything will be all right while I go inside and prepare our evening meal. I will try my best not to poison us!"

Ignoring the exasperated snort she heard from behind, she stalked back up to the house.

...

By herself in the dark, Saavik sat in a comfortable chair on the patio. She had come out here to meditate after Thaya had gone to bed, but instead she had been watching lightning flicker behind the clouds in the distance for twenty-one minutes. She knew that it would not be long before the storm was upon her.

She tensed when she heard the door open behind her, but she did not turn. It had to be Michael. Perhaps he would go back inside the house. As she listened, however, she heard his footsteps approach, and she knew that her solitude would be broken. She could not decide if she was apprehensive or relieved about it.

The footsteps stopped directly behind her. "Will you talk to me now, or are you still giving me the silent treatment?"

She spoke without turning. "I will talk."

"Good." He dragged a chair next to her. "That was about the longest, coldest meal I've ever had. What happened today?"

Her shoulders drooping slightly, she said, "I am sorry, Michael. It is simply that I am very concerned for Thaya, and when you said that everything would be all right, I became angry. I know that you meant well, but it is so blatantly untrue."

"I know. I'm sorry. I didn't even think. It's just an automatic thing you say when you want to comfort someone."

"It is not an automatic thing _I_ say."

He raised both hands with his palms out. "You're right. Sorry once again. I should have said that it's something a person says."

"It is something a human says."

"Listen, I'm trying to be nice here." He paused, but when she did not respond, he said, "Okay, I stand corrected."

"Very well. That is better."

They both fell silent, and she wondered if perhaps she had offended him again. Finally, though, he chuckled.

"You're something else, Saavik."

"Is that a compliment?"

"Of course! So, do you forgive me?"

"Perhaps." She looked over at him and allowed the corner of her mouth to turn up. "If you will forgive me, as well."

"Put that way, I don't see how I can refuse." He stood. "C'mon, let's go inside before it rains."

End chapter 6


	7. Chapter 7

Thaya, chapter 7

The next morning, Saavik sat at the kitchen table and stared blearily at the mug cradled between her hands. It had been a very long night. The storm had been partially responsible for her unrest, but even once it had passed, she had been unable to close her eyes without reliving events from the day before, repetitive echoes that converged, separated, and drifted in and out of her mind. Her conversation with Mr. Jenkins. The information about Andorian orphans. Thaya's fragile happiness. Her fight with Michael.

Her fight with Michael.

She had been sincere when she told him that she forgave him, truly she had, yet she found that she still resented the well-meaning words of platitude he had spoken on the beach. Humans sometimes said the worst things with the best intentions, and lying to her that "everything would be all right" still made her angry.

Everything would not be all right. It simply would not.

Unless...

Saavik thought again about what Spock had done. He had taken her by the hand and stepped into the unknown. A human might call it a leap of faith. A Vulcan might call it an illogical choice. He had definitely jeopardized everything he had worked to achieve in his life. But did he regret it? Even for a moment?

She ran both hands through her hair to comb it away from her forehead, and she looked out at the water.

If she asked Spock if he regretted any of it, he would say no. It had vexed her as a child when he maintained that one should always tell the truth, because she had known for a fact that he did not always tell the truth. She understood now with the perspective of years, however, that "truth" was sometimes an elusive object. As with beauty, it often depended on the metaphorical eye of the beholder.

But if he were to say that he did not regret any of it, she knew that it would be the truth by anyone's standards.

So.

Why, then, could she not do the same thing he had done? The idea had been floating in the back of her mind, weaving in and out of the shadowy images of the night, yet she had not allowed herself to actually shape it into a concrete thought until this moment. But she could, she knew she could.

She could raise Thaya. They could even live on Vulcan. Spock had discerned that Saavik, herself, would thrive in an environment that allowed unfettered exploration, a place where her unpolished social skills would not be examined too closely, but Thaya was so quiet and unobtrusive that she would fit in easily on Vulcan. In addition, a small Andorian population lived there, and although Saavik did not know them well, she knew them well enough to believe that they would provide guidance and support. Mr. Jenkins would also help. She was certain of it.

It could all fall into place so easily. Indeed, it almost seemed as if this arrangement were simply meant to be. Was there such a thing as predestiny? Spock would say that there was not-actually, he would vehemently insist that there was not-but sometimes events flowed with such serendipity that it was difficult to imagine them happening any other way. How could it be mere coincidence that she had encountered Thaya at a time in her own life when she could provide security and stability? A time when she was part of a strong network that included Michael, Spock, Nyota, Mr. Jenkins, and even a group of Andorians who just happened to live on Vulcan?

Spock had raised _her_ with very little assistance at all. Eventually Nyota had entered their lives, but for a long time he had done it all by himself. While she admired him tremendously for his initiative and sacrifice, it was possible that his approach had not been altogether logical. One might even say that his method of childrearing was one of trial and error, although he would certainly disagree were he to hear it described thus.

She, herself, knew that raising a child could be approached quite methodically. She would not rely on trial and error. Instead, she would perform continual research, and she would take the advice of others under serious consideration. She would approach her responsibilities efficiently and wisely. She would be the perfect parent, teacher, guardian, and friend. She would do it all.

This brought to mind another interesting question. What would she be to Thaya? Should she call herself a parent? Spock had always called himself her 'teacher,' which fit their relationship perfectly. It actually seemed more meaningful than 'parent' or 'guardian'-after all, a guardian merely guarded, and anyone could become a parent. She was quite partial to 'teacher,' if one invested that term with the appropriate amount of respect and warmth, and...

What was she thinking?

Allowing her head to fall back against the chair, she stared at the ceiling. She did not have Spock's wisdom and patience! How could she begin to compare herself to him? This was an enormous task that she was considering. While it was possible that she would succeed, what if she failed? A small life hung in the balance. This was not an experiment. This was not a mission. There was no training for this. There was not an exam she could take to test her preparedness. She could never-

She put the mug down with a loud clatter at a wail from upstairs. It did not sound like Thaya was in pain, exactly, but she was extremely agitated about something. Rising hastily, Saavik stumbled over the table leg, hopped on one foot until she had secured her footing, and ran from the kitchen.

She rounded the corner, took the steps two at a time, and followed the racket of small pounding footsteps and loud shrieking. Halting in the doorway of Ronnie's studio, she looked up just in time to see a brilliant flash of yellow dart out the open window.

She heard an intake of breath behind her, and she turned to find Michael with a towel wrapped around his waist, a small pool of water spreading from each foot.

"Oh, shit," he said. "Harry Canary."

Saavik's eyes grew wide, and she quickly crossed the room and leaned out the open window. There was no sign of the little bird, however.

"Thaya, why did you let Harry out of his cage?" she asked.

Thaya rubbed her eyes and sobbed, so Saavik moved closer.

"Thaya, answer me!" she said. "Why did you let Harry out? And why did you open the window?"

"Look at this."

Saavik turned toward Michael's voice to see him remove a stiff, rubbery pancake from the birdcage.

"A pancake?" Saavik pressed her hand to her forehead. "There was a pancake in Harry's cage?"

Her antennae drooping, Thaya tightened her arms around her toy and hiccuped through her tears.

"Calm down, Saavik," said Michael. "It was her job to feed him, remember? She probably thought he'd welcome a treat."

Thaya nodded vigorously, and several tears dripped from her chin to her shirt.

Saavik put her hands on her hips. "It was foolish to open the window before opening the birdcage."

"You open the window every time you come in here. I'm sure she was just imitating you."

"But what will we do? Ronnie was very attached to that bird! We are guests in her home, and-"

"It was an accident," he said. "And Thaya feels bad, really bad. Don't you?"

Thaya's lower lip trembled, and fresh tears spilled onto her cheeks.

Saavik closed her eyes. "Of course."

Michael dug around in the food tray until he'd gathered a few seeds. "Thaya, take these and put them on the patio. He's probably just sitting up in a tree somewhere. He didn't get a chance to eat his pancake, so maybe he's hungry."

Thaya dragged her arm across her face, accepted the birdseed, and slunk from the room. She would not meet Saavik's eyes. Saavik watched her go, and then slumped against the wall.

"Oh, Michael. I am terrible." She hung her head. "She made a mistake, and I yelled at her."

"Don't be silly. You got a little excited, but I wouldn't call it yelling. Besides, it was justified."

"But you did not get angry! I used to do things like that, and Spock never became angry with me. I even did worse things! But he never raised his voice or lost his patience." A horrid quaver had crept into her voice, but she could not stop. "You are so good with her! She has fun with you. But I'm always the one who makes her do things, I'm the one who grows angry, I-"

"Whoa, wait a minute. What are you talking about?"

"You play with her. You fly kites and buy her a toy rabbit and show her vids. I just tell her when it is time to bathe and go to bed, and I make her pick up her socks when she leaves them in the middle of the floor."

He held onto his towel with one hand and put the other on her shoulder. "When she got hurt the other day, who did she want? Not me."

She crossed her arms and did not reply, so he shook her shoulder gently. "And when you made pancakes, who ate them? Sorry, but I don't think she did it because they tasted good."

She pulled out of his grasp. "But I become so angry, when all I want... all I really want..."

She hesitated as the sentence completed itself in her mind.

_Is to keep her close and make everything all right._

She could not bring herself to voice it, though. Instead, she walked to the window, looked out, and said, "All I really want is to be fair to her."

"You are! You just got caught up in the moment."

"But I became so angry. I am a terrible person."

He chuckled, clearly oblivious to her inner struggle. "No, you aren't. Kids will do that to you. The trick is to take a deep breath or count to ten before you reply. It's natural to feel anger. You just have to make sure you don't express it."

She looked across the room at him. "But I was _so _angry."

"I know."

"Spock never became angry with me."

"Are you sure about that? Because I'll bet you gave him plenty of justification."

It was clear that Michael was not going to drop this until he had convinced her that she was not so awful, so she forced a lightness into her tone. "Perhaps he became impatient once or twice."

"That's what I thought. Why don't you go on down with Thaya? Give me a moment to get dressed, and I'll join you."

She walked toward the doorway. "You understand that Harry is not simply waiting in a tree," she said flatly.

"Yes, I know. I couldn't think of anything else to tell her. Poor little guy. He won't last long out there. Maybe if we leave the window open, he'll find his way back."

"That is very unlikely. The odds are-"

"Please don't give me the odds. If I accept how hopeless this is, I'll have to figure out what I'm going to tell Ronnie, and I'd rather not think about that right now."

"Perhaps we could buy another bird."

He halted in his tracks. "Saavik!"

"What? All little yellow birds look the same to me." She pressed her lips together irritably. "Oh, very well. Perhaps that is not the best solution. You will simply have to explain that no one was at fault when you talk to Ronnie about it. I am sure she will understand."

He stared at her without comment for a moment, then walked out the door. She heard his voice as he headed down the hall to his bedroom.

"Maybe it wouldn't hurt to look at the pet store in a day or two. Just to fill the time."

...

That night, Saavik sat on the edge of the bed in the dark and studied the sleeping child. Thaya was all alone. She had no one. From now on, her past would always seem like another person's lifetime, and her future would be uncertain. What would become of her? Who would help her calculate the odds that a caterpillar would spin its cocoon before discovered by a bird? Who would reassure her that it was good to be different when the other children insisted it was not good to be different? Who would make certain she wore shoes? And who would sometimes look the other way on a warm afternoon when shoes weren't quite so necessary?

A hard-edged column of light slipped across the room, and vanished when the door closed again.

"Is she asleep?" Michael asked.

"I want to raise her myself, Michael."

"What?"

She blinked, no less surprised than Michael at the words that had come out of her mouth.

"I want to raise her myself," she repeated. Then, she turned toward him and said with more conviction, "I want to raise her myself."

He was obviously speechless, so she took one last look at the tiny form in the bed before walking toward the door. When they were in the hallway, he grasped her hand and led her around the corner to Ronnie's studio. He did not turn on the light as he took her to the sofa.

Michael opened his mouth, then closed it. She waited patiently until he finally said, "Are you sure?"

"Yes. No." She frowned. "Yes."

"You don't sound too sure."

"I am not perfect, Michael, but I care for her and I am willing to learn. Is that not enough?"

"That's all that about ninety-nine percent of parents have going for them." He studied her for a long moment. "Do you want me to try to talk you out of this?"

"No. This is what I want to do."

"I guess it wouldn't serve any purpose to remind you that you're going to be giving up an awful lot. You probably intend to take some time off-say a year-to do this."

"It would be illogical to take responsibility for her and leave her."

"You know what this will do to your career, don't you?"

"I will have many years for my career, but I only have now for her."

"Where will you go?"

"I do not know. Vulcan, perhaps. That is not important."

"True," he said. "So, the big question is 'Why?'"

"Why?"

"Yes. Why?"

"Because Thaya needs me."

"I agree, but that's not really what I meant. Why? Why are you doing this?"

Saavik shook her head, unable to discern his meaning.

"Are you trying to pay him back?" he asked softly. "He's already gotten all the reward he ever wanted, you know. You don't owe him anything."

"I do not comprehend your meaning."

He met her eyes knowingly, so she relented.

"Michael," she said. "I owe him everything, and I always will. If I would like to pass on his gift in this manner, is it so bad a reason?"

"Not at all. I just want to make sure that you're going into this with your eyes open." He took her hand. "And I understand. However, it does make me wonder why Spock changed his life for a little girl he'd only just met. He didn't have your reasons. Why do you think he did it?"

"I have asked myself that same question uncounted times, and I do not know. Perhaps it was simply because I needed him, and he found it good to be needed? Now Thaya needs me. And it _is_ good to be needed."

He took her hand. "She's a lucky girl. You'll be terrific with her."

"How can you say that after the way I reacted?"

"That doesn't matter. It was nothing."

"But you are so good with her, and it comes to you naturally! I have none of your instincts. I-"

Blowing out a hard breath, he said, "Will you drop it? You're terrific with her. You have wonderful instincts. And most importantly, she loves you."

Saavik paused, stunned by the concept. She was loved. By a child. Finally, she said, "So you accept my decision?"

"Absolutely. I'm behind you one hundred percent."

"Thank you, Michael."

"No, thank _you_." He pressed his lips gently to hers. "For being the wonderful person you are."

"Computer, open window," she said.

The cool evening breeze ruffled her hair as she leaned forward to kiss him again, but her mind was back in the bedroom with the little girl.

Everything was going to be all right after all, just as he had said yesterday afternoon.

End chapter 7


	8. Chapter 8

Thaya, chapter 8

"Thaya, would you please join me for a moment? I have something to tell you."

As Thaya skipped across the room and sat on the sofa next to her, Saavik noticed that the sounds from the kitchen had ceased. She looked up to see Michael standing in the doorway with a dishtowel in his hand. He smiled and nodded encouragement, so she turned back to Thaya.

"Thaya," she said gently, "do you understand that Mr. Jenkins has been trying very hard to locate any relatives you might have?"

Thaya nodded seriously, so Saavik continued.

"He has talked to many, many people on Andor. He hoped he would find your family so you could live with them. I fear that he has not succeeded." Thaya did not appear to comprehend, so Saavik amended, "He has not found your family." Thaya still did not react. "He and I believe that you have no living relatives."

Thaya picked up her stuffed toy, which had been lying neglected on the floor near the sofa, and looked down at her feet. Saavik knew that she had not handled this well. She met Michael's eyes helplessly, and he made discreet circling motions with his hand to indicate that she should keep going. She scooted closer to Thaya.

"However," she said, "a relation by blood does not always define a family. Sometimes, one can choose one's family. Did you know that I have no known blood relatives, either?"

Her chin was still close to her chest, but Thaya peered up at Saavik and shook her head slightly.

"It is true. I was alone when I was your age. A very good man found me, and he raised me as his own. We defined what it meant to be a family. It was an accident that we met, but it was not an accident that we chose one another." Saavik put her elbows on her knees so that their faces would be on the same level. "Thaya, I choose you. I would be very pleased if you would also choose me."

Thaya's eyes grew wide. Saavik waited for her to nod or shake her head, or to give some other indication of her feelings, but she did nothing.

Saavik tried again. "Will you live with me, Thaya? I will take care of you. I will be your family. I really want to do this, more than I want anything in the universe."

Finally, Thaya smiled. It was a tiny smile, almost fearful, and Saavik thought that perhaps she was afraid to believe that the offer was genuine. It was the only answer Saavik needed, however.

"I think that we should live on Vulcan," she said. "We will make a home there, and you will go to school. Michael lives there, and so does my family, the chosen family that I told you about. We will have a good life. Together."

Thaya's small smile became a large one, and she began to bounce up and down on the sofa with excitement. Saavik motioned Michael over, and he sat down with them. Soon, he and she were both talking rapidly at the same time about everything they would find on Vulcan.

...

Seated at the computer terminal in Michael's father's office, Saavik picked up her padd and checked her list to see what she needed to do next.

She had contacted Mr. Jenkins, and as she had expected, he had been very pleased to learn of her decision.

She had completed the form he sent and returned it to him, and he was in the process of adding his own comments before forwarding it to Andor.

She had contacted Starfleet and applied for extended leave. She would have preferred to tell Captain Moore about it herself, but the Curie was currently out of communications range. She had recorded a message for him instead. Starfleet would give him the official notice, but she wished to at least provide a personal explanation.

She had scheduled a doctor's appointment per Mr. Jenkins' instructions so that Thaya could receive another check-up prior to going to Vulcan. He had stated that this was not strictly required, but it might speed the process. Saavik was wholeheartedly in favor of anything that might speed the process.

She had located a distributor of Vulcan clothing in Bombay, contacted him, and ordered five complete outfits for Thaya. They were to be delivered tomorrow. She knew that she could wait until they were actually on Vulcan to do this, but Thaya would be much more comfortable if appropriately attired as soon as they arrived. Saavik could not predict how she might react to the heat, and clothing designed for Vulcan's climate would be preferable to the clothing they had purchased in San Francisco.

She had reserved three seats on the 0800 shuttle from Terra Station to Vulcan on Tuesday, since Mr. Jenkins had indicated that she might receive permission to proceed as early as then. If it took somewhat longer, however, that would not be a problem, for she had ensured that her tickets were transferable.

Now. She must take care of the next item on her list.

"Computer. Contact Vulcan, comm address ShiKahr 99403371."

Waiting for her call to go through, she picked up a stylus, tapped it three times against the desk, looked at it, and put it down. Then, she started to reach for a paperweight, but caught herself and instead slid her hands under her thighs. This wasn't anything, really, just a call to two people who were always supportive, two people who would accept her decision, two people who had no idea that this was more than a routine assignment, who knew she'd gone to Earth but did not know where she was staying, whom she'd _meant_ to call a few days ago but just hadn't gotten around to calling, who would think that this was an incredibly drastic thing to do-

The screen brightened to show Nyota's face. "Saavik! What a surprise. Hang on a moment while I call Spock. Spock!" she yelled. "It's Saavik!" She faced the screen again. "So, tell me how everything is going. You're still on Earth?"

Saavik knew that Nyota would have checked the origin of the call prior to answering. However, this was Saavik's prompt to participate in 'small talk,' so she complied.

"Yes. I am actually in South Carolina, at Michael's father's home."

"Really?" Nyota tapped a key, and the display widened to show Spock finding a seat next to her. "Spock, Saavik just said that she's visiting Michael. In his father's home." The emphasis on the word 'father' was very evident.

"Nyota, I assure you that my sense of hearing is quite undiminished despite the fact that you nearly deafened me when you called my name. Greetings, Saavik."

Nyota acknowledged his teasing comment with a sideways look, and returned her attention to Saavik. "That's great! It's always a big step when a young man takes you home to meet his family."

"Actually, he did not bring me here to meet his family. His family is off-planet."

"Oh? So it's just the two of you?"

Surprise was evident in Nyota's voice, and Saavik wondered what that meant. Did Nyota disapprove? She would be willing to wager that Nyota, herself, had spent a number of vacations alone with a partner by the time she was Saavik's age. Perhaps that was the nature of the "mother/daughter" relationship, however. True, they were technically not a mother and daughter, but that did not seem to matter. How would she, Saavik, react when Thaya began to engage in physical relations? The idea was disquieting, but she would make every effort to respect Thaya's choices.

Or perhaps she was merely reading something into Nyota's response that was not actually there. Nyota had always been open-minded, and she was certainly not judgmental. It was a fascinating concept. Was it possible that her own budding relationship with Thaya had colored her perception? Nyota liked Michael, and it was possible that her reaction actually indicated approval of Saavik's increasingly serious relationship with him.

Of course, Saavik did not dare look closely at Spock, for she had no doubt about _his_ opinion on the matter.

Her train of thought dissipated when she realized that Spock and Nyota were watching her. She cast back in her memory, and she realized that they were waiting for her to confirm that she and Michael were indeed alone.

"We are not alone. I am certain you recall that I came to Earth with the survivor of a shuttle crash. I am here with her."

"I see," said Nyota. "Are you having a good visit?"

"It has been very agreeable."

Spock, who had often mentioned that he could never get in a word when Saavik and Nyota were talking, quickly said, "What is the child's status?"

"She is progressing. Her emotional wounds are far from healed, but she no longer dwells on her trauma, either."

"Has her family been located?"

"No. Actually, this is why I am calling." She looked at their expectant faces, took a deep breath, and stated, "I have decided to raise her myself." When they did not reply immediately, she lifted her chin defiantly and added, "It is only logical."

Both of Spock's eyebrows had shot up, but except for that, neither of them displayed any sort of overt reaction to her news. Saavik had to force herself not to shift in her seat as they continued to gaze at her. After a very long moment, though, they finally turned to each other, and a huge, silly grin spread across Nyota's face. "Well. I don't know about you, Spock, but I'm much too young to be a grandparent."

"I would not dare to contradict you, Nyota," he replied.

Saavik felt a great pressure ease within her chest, and suddenly she could not stop the words from tumbling out. "She depends on me. She needs me! She is so small, yet she is very strong, too. Her hair is so white and fine that it feels like silk, and you should see her run. I will take extended leave, and I will come to live on Vulcan with her. And Michael is so good with her. I never thought that she would be happy again, but she is happy with us." She finally paused to catch her breath. "With me."

"I am certain that she is, Saavikam," said Spock. "She has endured a great deal of misfortune, and it is time for her life to improve. Are you certain, though, that you comprehend the ramifications of your decision? You are undertaking quite a commitment. Raising a child is a tremendous responsibility, and your career-"

"Oh, Spock, shush," said Nyota good-naturedly. "You don't fool me. Of course she's thought about that, and you're just as pleased about this as I am. Just think, they'll be right here on Vulcan! I can't wait to meet her, uh, I'm sorry, I've forgotten her name."

"Thaya," supplied Saavik.

"Oh, yes-Thaya. That's it. Will you tell her about us? I want her to already know us when we meet her."

"I will. I will tell her all about you. In the meantime, could you begin looking for a place for us to live? I would be very content to find a small home in your area."

"Of course we will," said Nyota. "I'll get right on it. Oh, there's a little place just down the street, and the owners told me that they might be moving to ShanaiKahr. It would be perfect! The yard is a bit small, but there's a big sunroom on the side that would be a great place for a child to play. She probably won't want to be out in the heat that much, anyway. I'll talk to them to see if they might be putting it up on the market soon. The trim on the exterior is a horrid shade of pea green, but it wouldn't take much to change it. Maybe a soft greyish blue, or darker green. Oh, and-"

"We will provide you with a list of potential sites, Saavik," interrupted Spock. "Since I am relatively confident that you do not need to make a choice today, perhaps this discussion can wait until you have considered your alternatives."

Nyota laughed. "Okay, okay. I get the hint. We can talk about this later."

"That would be agreeable." Saavik looked from one kind face to another. "I must go now. Thank you. For everything."

"It's our pleasure, Saavik," replied Nyota. "Keep us posted!"

"I will. Saavik out."

Nyota had already turned to Spock and begun speaking excitedly when the screen grew dark, and Saavik leaned back in her chair for a moment. It was actually going to happen! She was going to take Thaya to Vulcan, she was going to find a home near Spock and Nyota, and Michael too, and they were all going to make a life together. Suddenly, it seemed that it could not happen quickly enough to suit her.

...

Saavik stirred and pulled the covers over her shoulders, vaguely aware of the green brightness filtering through her eyelids and the warmth of the sun falling across her pillow. She could feel the solidity of a small body next to her, and she knew that Thaya was also in the bed. Thaya had wanted to sleep with Saavik again last night after several nights of independence, but Saavik hadn't minded. Indeed, it seemed appropriate to mark the beginning of their new life together with the reassurance of physical closeness.

She nestled her head back into the pillow, and sleep had just begun to overtake her again when she heard a sound. A beautiful, lilting sound, and it came from inside the house. She sat up, suddenly wide awake.

Placing her hand on Thaya's shoulder, she said, "Thaya, wake up!"

Thaya sat up groggily and rubbed her face, but at the sound of another colorful outburst, she was immediately alert. The two of them threw the covers back and hurried from the room. They jogged barefoot down the hall, and Saavik grasped Thaya's arm to remind her not to burst into Ronnie's studio. They eased into the doorway, and Saavik thought that she might simply melt with relief when she saw the source of the beautiful song: There was Harry, hopping from perch to perch in his open cage. Saavik was never one to ascribe humanoid traits to animals, but she could not deny that he seemed very happy indeed.

Thaya looked up at her with shining eyes, and Saavik nodded with satisfaction. "I do not think that Harry wants any more pancakes," she said, "but they sound very appealing to me right now. What about you?"

Thaya nodded eagerly, so Saavik crept across the room to close Harry's cage, and they headed downstairs.

End chapter 8


	9. Chapter 9

Thaya, chapter 9

Three days later, Saavik sat cross-legged on the sand and watched Thaya jump up and down in the shallow waves. It was difficult to believe, but soon the sun would set and she would begin packing their suitcases. They were confirmed on the 0800 shuttle to Vulcan tomorrow. Tomorrow!

Thaya really needed another pair of good walking shoes. Saavik had forgotten about shoes when she ordered the new clothing, but maybe they could wait until they arrived on Vulcan to take care of that. She must ensure that she put Thaya's records in an easily accessible place, for while Spock had been assured by the Vulcan authorities that she would encounter no obstacles in customs, one never knew what might go wrong. It would be a good idea to make extra copies for Michael, too. Would Thaya like to pack her own bag for the flight? She was quite excited, so that would probably be an activity she would enjoy. Oh, and perhaps the flight would be a good time for them to look at the floor plans of their new house and decide which room would be whose. Granted, they would be living with Spock and Nyota at first, and the house wasn't actually _their_ house yet, but it would still-

She turned around at the sound of footsteps on the deck to see that Michael was moving in her direction.

"Michael," she called out, "do you think that Thaya would rather have the room with two windows? It is rather small, but it appears the more pleasant of the two. Besides, I would prefer the large one, and I do not mind that it only has one window. It is a big window, at any rate."

"Saavik..."

"Do not allow me to forget to pack enough food! I did not take enough on our last flight, and she rejected the snacks that were provided by the shuttleline. I do not blame her. They were quite unappealing."

"Saavik."

"Perhaps we can stop at the market on the way to the spaceport and buy some apples. She is fond of those tart green ones..."

Saavik's voice trailed away when Michael's somber expression registered. He moved close and stopped.

"What is it?" she asked.

"You have a call. It's Mr. Jenkins."

"He must have the final versions of her documents. I was not expecting them until later. He works quickly."

"Er, I don't think so."

She hesitated. "Do you know what it's about?"

"He didn't tell me much, but something... something has changed. You better let him explain."

She held his eyes for a long moment, then jumped to her feet and ran inside.

...

Only one day had passed since Mr. Jenkins had told her the news. One Terran day. Less than 24 hours.

How could everything have changed so quickly?

She stood in the small room at Terra Station, staring at the little girl who sat with her arms wrapped around her stuffed dog. The sounds from outside washed over her. An animated conversation in Deltan grew louder and then faded as a group of travelers happened to pass near the door. An arrival was announced-flight 803 to Andromeda-and the passengers taking flight 1145 to Space Station Fifteen were warned that they would not be called again. Sedate background music competed with the nonstop thudding of rushed feet, conversations in too many languages to count, and the periodic rumble of a ship engaging its engines.

Indeed, it seemed that time passed quickly for the hurried beings who were coming and going in Terra Station's cavernous main terminal. Here, however, in the comfortable "courtesy room," time seemed to have stopped.

Odd.

It was only her perception, of course, but did that make it any less true? She had experienced this same sensation yesterday when Mr. Jenkins had told her that a family member-a grandmother-had been located. Time had actually seemed to halt until his words registered, and in that instant, everything had changed. How _could_ one's life change so completely in only an instant? She remembered feeling like this only one other time, when she was waiting for Nyota to tell her what had happened when Spock left the Enterprise's bridge. There had eventually been a happy ending then, but today... there would simply be an ending.

She felt a cool hand grasp her own, and she looked up at Michael.

"Hey," he said. "Are you okay?"

"Yes."

A lie, but of course Michael would know that.

"This explains the stuffed dog, you know."

Saavik finally forced her eyes away from Thaya. "How?"

"Mr. Jenkins said that Thaya's grandmother is a member of a hive that forbids any sort of outside contact. He said that their traditions are so strict that they won't even allow contact with other Andorians, much less alien cultures. It reminds me a little of the Amish on Earth. They live a simple life, and everyone in the community works together so they can be totally self-sufficient. Just think of what it's taking for Thaya's grandmother to come here, when she's probably never even set foot outside her own village! She must be quite a lady."

He waited for a response from Saavik, but she did not react.

"Anyway," he continued, "Thaya's mother rebelled. She not only married one person instead of a group, she married an outsider. She changed her official records to show no hive affiliation. She wore jewelry. She cut her hair. She spoke or at least knew Standard." He smiled ruefully. "And she gave her daughter a Terran toy."

Saavik nodded, but did not speak, so Michael squeezed her hand. "It'll be okay."

"We should be pleased for Thaya, should we not? She belongs with her family. Not with me."

"Well, as you said so eloquently yourself, family is a relative term." He took a heavy breath. "But yes, she belongs with her grandmother."

Footsteps approached the door, and Saavik felt her heart rate accelerate. Perhaps it was not them. Perhaps it was the woman from Civilian Affairs again, checking to see if they required anything. Perhaps it was a maintenance person, here to repair the flickering light in the corner. Perhaps someone was lost, perhaps it was all a mistake, perhaps-

The door slid open to reveal Mr. Jenkins and a stocky, older Andorian woman. The woman stood frozen in the open doorway with both joy and sorrow clear on her face as she looked at the little girl.

"En theroa S'Petha," she said in a choked voice, and Saavik recognized Thaya's mother's name even though her universal translator could not handle the dialect. "En theroa S'Petha."

The woman was clutching something tightly in her hands, and when Saavik looked closer, she saw that it was a rumpled drawing. A portrait. The person who had rendered it had not been endowed with great artistic talent, but the resemblance to Thaya was unmistakable. It was obviously her mother.

"S'Petha," the woman whispered.

Mr. Jenkins gave her a moment to compose herself before touching her elbow and guiding her into the room. Thaya came to her feet, and Saavik moved around the coffee table to stand near her.

"Hello, Saavik," said Mr. Jenkins. "Good to see you again."

"Greetings, Mr. Jenkins."

"This is Sherin S'Eldras. Thaya's grandmother," he added unnecessarily.

Saavik nodded at the woman. "I am pleased to meet you."

It was obvious that the woman did not understand her words, but she nervously returned the nod.

Gesturing toward Michael, Saavik said, "This is Dr. Michael Watkins. He has been helping me care for Thaya."

"We appreciate your efforts, Dr. Watkins."

Michael handed Thaya's suitcase to Mr. Jenkins. "It was my pleasure, Mr. Jenkins."

They fell silent, and Saavik felt Thaya edge closer. She rested a hand on the thin little shoulder, and she was reminded of the many times that Spock had stood with her like this. She had always pretended to be fearless, but he in turn had always known when she needed reassurance. Thaya did not pretend, however. It was clear that she was very frightened.

Finally, Mr. Jenkins said, "I guess there's no easy way to do this, Saavik."

Saavik squared her shoulders and knelt. "Thaya," she murmured, "this is your grandmother. Your very own grandmother. I never had a grandmother. You are very fortunate."

Thaya nodded, her eyes huge and her lips pressed together.

"She was sad when your mother went away," Saavik continued, "but she is happy now because she has you. She is going to take very good care of you."

A tear trickled down Thaya's cheek, and she wrapped her arms tighter around her toy.

"It..." Saavik cleared her throat. "It is time for you to go to her."

Saavik brushed the tear away and stood. Thaya made no move to walk away, so she reached down and gave her a gentle nudge. "Go," she whispered.

Thaya started across the room. Her shoulders were hunched and she looked at the floor, and her steps were very small and slow. Finally, however, she reached her grandmother. The old woman gave her a long hug, and then took her hand and turned away.

Saavik wrapped her arms across her chest as she watched their departing backs. Soon, Thaya would be gone. She would walk out with her grandmother, she would be welcomed into the hive, and she would never be permitted contact with anyone else again. The door had opened, and Mr. Jenkins was pointing in the direction they were to go...

Suddenly, Thaya pulled away and ran back into the room, and before Saavik could even react, Thaya had thrown herself into Saavik's arms. Saavik pulled her tight and buried her face in the little girl's silky hair. Saavik knew that she was crying, something she had not done since Spock's funeral, but she did not care. It did not matter. Time had stopped again, and this time she hoped that it would never, never resume.

Inevitably it did, however, and Saavik made herself release the little girl. They looked at each other.

"Goodbye, Saavik," said Thaya in a tiny, lispy voice.

Saavik swallowed, and Thaya placed the tattered stuffed animal in her hands, gave her a small smile, then turned and ran away. A moment later, they were gone.

Saavik stared at the door until she finally looked down at the toy. Boo. Or Toto. She was not sure which.

Michael put his arm around her and squeezed, and she let her head fall back against his shoulder. They stood like that for several minutes, but finally she dragged her hand across her cheeks and faced him.

"I must tell Spock and Nyota that I will not be buying the house."

"I know."

"And I must contact Starfleet Command and inform them that I will be returning to duty. I hope that they have not found a replacement for me on the Curie." She took a deep breath, and although her chest heaved spasmodically, she kept talking. "It would-"

"Saavik. Shhh." He reached for her hand, studied it, and covered it with both of his own. "We'll take care of everything tomorrow. Let's just go back to the beach now."

She nodded, so they left the room.

...

Much later that night, Saavik looked up at the stars with her head pillowed on Michael's shoulder. The hammock rocked gently beneath them, and she could hear the palm trees rustling in the breeze. It was a pleasant night, a fitting end to her stay at the beach, but she found that she was ready to leave. Leave the beach, leave Earth. She did not wish to part company with Michael, but it was inevitable. That seemed to be the pattern of her life. Even when Spock had made a home for her, it had always been a matter of time before they moved on.

"I wonder where she is," Michael said.

Saavik pointed in the direction of Andor, even though neither of them could see Andor's star with the naked eye from here.

"Maybe she's already settling into her new home." He stroked Saavik's arm. "I'll bet her grandmother has a cozy little place that's just right for the two of them, with lots of neighbors who are itching to meet her. Mr. Jenkins said that the grandmother has been living all alone for a long time, so I'm sure she has an abundance of love that she's been waiting to share with someone."

"It requires more than mere love to raise a child, Michael. Not only is Thaya's new culture restrictive, but Mr. Jenkins said that her grandmother is poor. She will have very few advantages."

"Oh, I don't know. I think that there are different kinds of advantages. True, she won't have a fancy education with lots of expensive gadgets, but she'll live a quiet life in a close-knit, supportive community. There's something to be said for that."

"But unless she rebels like her mother, she will be forced to live there forever."

"Not everyone hungers for the stars, Saavik."

She frowned. "You make it sound as if you think that she is better off now."

"Of course I don't mean that. She would have had a wonderful life with you. But I don't think that she's doomed, either. She'll do fine."

She was trying her best to resist allowing him to cheer her, but she could not deny his point. Thaya's grandmother had seemed to be very gentle and caring, and those qualities would be much more important to Thaya than wealth or privilege.

"You are correct," Saavik conceded. "Her grandmother will take good care of her."

"That's right."

They fell silent, and gradually Saavik felt herself begin to grow drowsy, lulled by the sound of the ocean and the motion of the hammock. She had not slept at all last night, and the events of the day had worn on her. She took a deep breath in preparation for telling him that she was ready to go in. Before she could speak, however, he spoke first.

"You'll be a wonderful mother someday," he said.

She exhaled slowly.

"And it occurs to me," he continued, "that I want to be there when it happens."

She propped herself up on her elbows so she could see his face, and she allowed herself to smile slightly. It was the first time she had felt like smiling since yesterday, and although the heaviness in her chest did not diminish, she realized that perhaps it was not a weight she had to carry alone.

"I hope that you will be, too," she replied.

They gazed at one another until he finally brushed the hair away from her forehead and smiled. "C'mon," he said. "Let's go to bed."

They climbed out of the hammock and headed back to the house.

End story

The next story in this series is Utoto.


End file.
